The Wager
by CorellianBlue
Summary: Han and Leia go on a well-earned vacation that will test the strength of their relationship. (First published 2002, revised September 2015. I was flamed for writing this 13 years ago, so I give fair warning to JJ Abrams. This might take a bit longer to update as I am now gainfully employed - as opposed to writing fanfic!)
1. Chapter 1

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **I**

Han Solo strolled across the gypstone lobby floor of the Alderaani Embassy, not quite as if he owned the place, but perhaps as if he was currently negotiating proprietary rights. Dressed casually in civilian attire, he looked more like the independent spacer he had once been than the New Republic general he had become, particularly with his unkempt hair, and the flask of wine and dionsyr bud stem he carried. He winked in response to the coy smile from a young female security guard and nodded in acknowledgment to her bulky male colleague.

The Embassy lobby was reasonably busy for last day of the seven-day work cycle. A throng of humans, mainly Alderaani from the style of their robes and the elaborately braided hair of the women, gathered quietly around the reception desk, patiently waiting to be served by the sole attendant. A few clerical and executive assistants conferred with each other on the circumference of the lobby, their protocol droids hovering close by. In the centre of the circular expanse, a manicured group of tourists was staring up into the Embassy's atrium as a refined voice pointed out architectural features and artistic whimsy.

Solo's gaze followed the eyes of the tourists, looking up into the high domed glassine ceiling, and he appreciated the warmth of the mid-afternoon sun cascading down the muted pastel walls and washing across the polished floor. Above him, starbursts of sunshine reflected off glassine panels lining the higher level walkways. Soft aeyren pipe melodies drifted from concealed receivers and the scent of indigenous Alderaani wildflowers caressed the air.

Solo had to hand it to the Alderaani. It hadn't taken them long to transform this section of the Imperial Palace into a startling memorial of, and resemblance to, their destroyed home world. Understandably, the dispossessed Alderaani were among the first to take up residence in the Palace not long after the New Republic symbolically established its government in the former Imperial City of Coruscant. That had been only four or five months ago, and work on the Alderaani Embassy had commenced not long after.

As soon as the living apartments had been finished, Leia, now one of three councillors representing the people of Alderaan in the New Republic council, had moved from her cramped cabin onboard a Mon Calamari cruiser into the Embassy. For the former princess of Alderaan, it had been like going home. The tension that so often strained the corners of her mouth had eased, and the loneliness in her eyes had disappeared. Han thought it was about the best thing Leia had done for herself in a long time, probably since he had known her. Yet for the life of him, he couldn't understand why she wouldn't let _him_ move in with her.

The apartment, though sparsely furnished, had more than enough room for the two of them—especially the luxurious bed—and was far larger than his cabin onboard the _Falcon_. At Leia's insistence, Han had instead rented a one-room unit on the lower levels of Coruscant, to afford them some privacy if required. He rarely used it, however. If he wasn't in Leia's bed, or lounging on her sofa, he preferred the familiarity of his cabin. The unit had become not much more than a storage area for some of his items of uniform, and a place where he slept if he'd had one too many drinks and thought it wiser than to risk Leia's ire.

Solo recalled yet another discussion he'd had with Leia only a few work cycles ago about their current living arrangements. Leia had not budged from her position that it was inappropriate for a New Republic councillor and a New Republic general to be living together without any formal commitment between them. Initially, Han had been bewildered.

"What do you mean, 'no commitment'?" he had asked rather testily. "I'm as committed to you as any man could ever be. Leia, I love you. What more do you want?"

Leia's sweet kiss had cooled his temper, until she had added, "Han, it needs to be more formal than just what we feel for each other."

He had thought then that she wanted a proposal of marriage from him. They had vaguely talked about such things before, but always it had been something for the future, when the New Republic government was fully established, the last remnants of the Empire brushed away, and they could devote more time to each other. He had already proposed to her once—on Endor, the night of the destruction of the second Death Star. Then she had agreed, but suggested they should leave it for a while, until that distant 'future'.

When Leia had again stressed they could only live together if formally committed to each other, it occurred to Han that maybe what she had wanted was _another_ proposal then and there.

"So we'll get married," he had appealed. "Is that formal enough?"

His proposition had elicited another passionate kiss from her, but also another postponement of any wedding plans until they both had more time to 'sort things out'. He was fine with that too, especially after she took his hand and led him into her bedroom—whatever she wanted, he wanted to. Except he couldn't let go of his original intentions. As she removed his shirt, caressing and kissing the warm skin she revealed, he had taken a final opportunity to get his own way.

"So in the meantime, I'll move in."

Leia had momentarily ceased her seduction, placed her arms around his neck and smiled up into his eyes.

"Han, it wouldn't _look_ right."

Her words had injured him more deeply than he cared to admit.

"Can't have the Alderaani ambassador shacking up with a Corellian smuggler, can we?"

He had meant his words to be more teasing than they had sounded. Leia's face had soured and she had dropped her arms from his neck. They were crossing old territory.

"That's not it," she'd told him sternly, "and you _know_ that's not it."

"I think you care too much about what people think, Princess."

"And you obviously don't care enough."

He had known he had lost this round; the tone of her voice had been sufficient warning.

In an attempt to salvage something without completely losing the battle, Solo had snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Which part am I wrong about?" he'd asked. "The Corellian, or the smuggler?"

A sensuous smile had curved his lips as his hands traced the contours of her body through her robes. Leia had unsuccessfully tried to repress a smirk and pushed against his bare chest in a weak imitation of struggle.

"Despite your behaviour to the contrary, _General_ , you're not a smuggler anymore."

"What am I then?"

The delicate caress of her fingers against his cheek and jaw had sent the adrenalin rushing through him.

"Solo, you are, and always have been, a scoundrel."

"Your scoundrel," he had softly pledged.

Leia's eyes had softened and her body compliantly melded with his. "Mine."

Afterwards, lying in his arms, her fingers playing with the hairs on his chest, she had told him, "I think you enjoy the image of the bad boy defiling the virginal princess just a little too much, Han."

"Oh? And I don't hear you complaining."

His pinch to her backside had resulted in a slap across his stomach. He had chuckled at her response, nestled his head against hers and held her tighter.

But their living arrangements were still not resolved to his satisfaction. That was partly why he now carried a flask of Leia's favourite wine and a bud of her favourite flower. Granted, part of him _was_ a mushy romantic, while another part hoped he might be able to placate her with gifts and convince her to change her mind—either about waiting to marry him, or allowing him to move in. Either way, he wanted things to change.

At least his arrival arrangements had improved. When Leia had initially taken up residence in the Embassy, Han had had to register in as a visitor on every occasion he went to her apartment, even though he had the access code to her rooms. The peace loving Alderaani had also insisted he check in his blaster at the reception desk before entering the weapon-free Embassy. Both these 'problems' had been quickly dispatched once he'd made his feelings known. As he now considered himself a regular, he figured that a brief wave to the reception attendant as he passed by was adequate identification. The Alderaani still frowned at the weapon holstered to his thigh, but Leia's placating words and diplomacy seemed to be holding them at bay. Marvellous what you could get away with when your girlfriend was the boss.

Orbiting the tourists, Solo ambled past the busy reception desk towards the ornately carved portal leading to the living quarters. He almost walked into the closed doors before realising they weren't going to automatically open for him.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Frowning, Han stepped back from the doors and approached them again. The doors stayed firmly shut.

"Sir?"

Han scratched his chin and glanced around. This had never happened before. Maybe the doors had malfunctioned.

 _How lax is that? Someone should get onto repairing this fast._

"Excuse me. Sir?"

Han finally realised the reception attendant was addressing him.

 _Yeah, the attendant should get these doors fixed._ He turned to the desk and was surprised to see a fresh-faced young man he didn't know peering out from the humans he was attending to. Han chided himself for not noticing that the man was a new starter with the Embassy; he certainly hadn't been there when Han had left for work the previous morning. Only a few years ago, a minor lapse that like could have gotten Solo fried, and even now he knew he shouldn't take their security for granted.

Upon noticing he had the lanky stranger's attention, the attendant relaxed his hunched shoulders and a weak smile of relief brightened his pale face. Rather incongruously, the visitor carried a blue-tinged glassine bottle and a flower in one hand, while the other hung loosely next to the butt of a vicious-looking blaster pistol. The attendant struggled to find his voice.

"C-can I help you, sir?"

Han walked across to the desk, glanced at the Alderaani waiting to be served, then back at the attendant. He guessed the attendant had forcibly locked the doors when he had seen him approach. His mouth twisted in thought, and he mentally gave the kid ten points for having the foresight to stop a stranger entering the Embassy unaccompanied, but quickly deducted that score for not knowing _whom_ he had stopped.

"You're new," Solo observed. "I'm not. Let me through."

"I'm-I'm aff-fraid I can't do that, sir."

The Corellian cocked an eyebrow and said in his most pleasant voice, "You can't?"

"Ah, no." The slight young man consulted a flimsy listing instructions and procedures, before glancing up at Han. "A-as, as a visitor to the Embassy, you need to register and be sponsored by an official. To physically enter any area outside of the lobby, you must be under escort."

"I see," Han said stiffly. _Great. All this place needs is_ another _data-pushing bureaucrat…_

The attendant opened a new entry in the visitor register, perhaps considering it wiser to deal with Han now than asking him to move to the end of the queue.

"May I have your name, sir?"

The smile on Han's lips was as thin as the attendant's list of directions. "Solo. But you can call me 'General'."

Neither the rank nor the name seemed to make an impression on the attendant, and he duly recorded the details.

"And whom did you wish to see, General Solo?"

Han noted the male security guard was curiously heading towards the desk, perhaps to find out why Han had been stopped, or because he suspected something unfortunate was about to occur. The Corellian repressed a grin, but not the wicked gleam in his eye. He leaned his forearms casually on the desk counter.

"Well, I'm not too sure," Solo began congenially. "Maybe you can help."

The attendant's smile was genuine. "I'll try my best, sir."

"I'm sure you will. You got a princess here?"

"Princess? That would be the Princess Leia Organa."

Solo nodded in agreement. "Yeah. That sounds about right. I've been told to report to her quarters. Know anything about that?"

The Alderaani within earshot of the conversation studiously looked elsewhere.

"Uh—" The attendant quickly scanned a database for expected visitors and other items that may have helped, but didn't. "Uh, urrr, no, sir. What exactly were you to do in the Princess' apartment?"

Oh, that was too wide an opening for Han Solo to let pass by.

Han shrugged. "All I know is my orders say I'm to turn up at her place, with a flask of wine,"—he indicated the bottle—"have a 'fresher and wait in her bed for further instructions. It's the strangest assignment I've _ever_ had."

The attendant's pale face suddenly became even paler. Han had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from bursting into laughter. He watched the train of thought scamper across the young man's eyes, the realisation of what had been said and all it implied, then he mimicked the attendant's dawning comprehension. Han reached out and grabbed the young man's wrist.

"Hey, you don't think…surely it can't mean…" Fake horror filled Solo's voice. "I'm being used as a…" his voice softened in consternation, "…sex object."

"General, I trust you're not disrupting Drewin on his first day."

Han released the attendant's wrist and smirked at the burly security guard at his shoulder.

"Who me?" Solo asked instinctively. "Of course not."

Captain Wingrove snorted dismissively, but that was the limit of his insubordination.

"It's all right, Drewin," Wingrove explained to the attendant. "General Solo is a friend of Princess Organa."

"A _special_ friend," Han added with a wink.

"I see," Drewin mumbled nervously.

"Not quite," Han suggested, "but you'll get there. Just remember not to lock the doors on me, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Wingrove keyed a pad on his utility belt and the large wooden doors slid open. He gestured to the opening with a thick, blunt hand.

"There you go, General."

"Thanks."

The captain glanced back at Drewin, who was fumbling with the sheets of flimsy and furiously deleting Han's name from the register.

"General Solo has access through to the living quarters," Wingrove told him.

Han couldn't repress a grin.

"He has unlimited access to Princess Leia's apartment."

The grin broadened to a self-satisfied smile.

"And he is authorised to carry his blaster through to the apartment, provided it remains holstered."

Solo's abruptly smile dropped.

"Hey," Han interrupted. "When did that last bit get added?"

Wingrove smiled wryly and nodded towards the passage.

"Have a good evening, General."

Han touched fingers to forehead in casual salute and ambled through. _I certainly intend to._

Leia's apartment was situated three levels up and in the far corner of the Embassy. Han caught the turbolift up to the level and wandered down the open walkway, trailing his free hand along the metal balustrade. The door to Leia's apartment was no different to the other quarters, and bore no distinguishing features or even a nameplate, yet there was something about it he liked. Maybe it was because behind it, the Leia who lived there was a Leia only he knew.

Han pressed the access code into the keypad and the door slid open.

"Hey, sweetheart! I'm home!"

His voice boomed through the apartment as the door closed behind him. It was far too early for Leia to be home and she wouldn't be finished work for a few more hours. Knowing Leia, she was probably cramming in a few more meetings and datawork before the end of the seven-day work cycle and commencement of the three day break. That thought almost made him laugh. Leia had _never_ stopped work for the full duration of cycle-end and he doubted she ever would. He knew her better than that. He was lucky if she relaxed for more than a few hours, let alone not work for longer than half a day.

Though far from extravagant, the apartment was comfortably and impeccably furnished in Leia's elegant yet simple style. The walls were dappled in a soft dun hue, highlighted with richer earthen touches in the lampshades, privacy blinds and floor rugs. An over-stuffed modular sofa skirted the edge of a sunken living area, and behind that stood a dining table for four. Understated pieces of artwork hung on the walls, accented by ceiling-mounted down lights.

Solo still found it difficult to believe that he practically lived here; it was unlike anywhere else he had ever inhabited. Leia had only moved into the apartment about ten work cycles ago—around the same time Luke decided to take a Jedi sabbatical and disappear from the galaxy—but to Han it felt as if this had always been her home. And he liked the idea that one day she would allow him to call it his home too.

As he passed around the living area, Han shrugged his jacket off and slung it across the sofa. Grabbing an empty stem vase from a console table, he placed the dionsyr bud on the dining table so Leia would see it as soon as she entered the apartment.

He headed into the kitchen to slip the flask of wine into the cooling unit, retrieved a container of creamy rhodendra milk in its place and drank deeply for the container. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, scooped up a piece of stella fruit from the bowl on the counter and wandered back across the apartment into the bedroom.

Brilliant sunshine streamed through the large bay window that opened onto a modest balcony. With the fruit wedged in his mouth, Han placed the rhodendra container on the bedside table, unhooked his holster and tossed it onto the end of the bed where it slid off the bedcover onto the floor. No matter.

He gracefully flopped onto his side of the bed, breathing in a hint of Leia's fragrance that wafted up from the bedclothes. Settling himself up against the pillows, Han sighed as he took a swig of milk and munched on the fruit. _A man could get used to this life._

Only eighteen months had passed since the Battle of Endor and the death of Palpatine, and yet so much had changed. At first there hadn't been any notable difference; the Rebel Alliance was _still_ the Rebel Alliance, only instead of being the outlaws of the Galactic Empire, they were the ones mopping up the remnants of the Imperial Forces. It had only been since Coruscant had been officially liberated, the politicians and diplomats ousted and the New Republic established, that things had settled down to a dull roar.

With Leia accepting nomination as the Alderaani ambassador and moving into the former Imperial capital, Han had wangled a nice staff officer post in headquarters to be by her side. The uniform of a general still didn't fit too well on him (all those years of doing as he pleased and answering to no one had obviously 'corrupted' him, Leia took great delight in saying), but at least he was near her and he got to jall around in starfighters whenever he felt like it. It also kept him off the streets. His instincts, however, told him the quiet wouldn't last; the galaxy was seldom fair.

Despite the relative calm and order in their lives, he and Leia never seemed to get a break. Leia's duties and responsibilities continually pulled her away or distracted her when they did manage to share some time, and the pile of work on his desk never seemed to dissipate. Naturally, Han had his own methods of coping with a demanding workload. Only this morning, while staring despondently at the file list of correspondence requiring action and replies, he had decided now was a good time to take the _Falcon_ up to flight test those repairs he and Chewie had recently completed. Before long he was halfway across the system and up to his neck in the engine bay, hydrospanner in hand, fine-tuning the sublight drive.

Leia, on the other hand, would _never_ consider just dropping everything and indulging herself. Which was why it had taken Han so long to convince her that now was the time to take a vacation.

"The galaxy is big enough and ugly enough to look after itself for a while," he had appealed. "And we need to spend some time together. Alone."

"But I've got so much work to do."

"And it'll still be there when you get back."

"I can't remember the last time I had a vacation."

"All the more reason why you need one."

She had finally relented, especially after he described Jenolan, the location he had chosen for their vacation. Or maybe it was because he had threatened to carry her kicking and screaming into the _Falcon_ if she refused to come under her own free will.

Only one more work cycle and they'd be away from all of this for a few weeks. And then, Solo planned doing nothing.

Jenolan was a relatively unpopulated world located in the middle of nowhere in particular. A small planet, not much bigger than Endor, Jenolan had limited technology, unremarkable geography and climate. However there was one place Han knew of. A quiet resort town called Emubra in the upper temperate zone of the southern hemisphere. A place he had briefly visited on a rare legit haulage run a few years before he hooked up with the Rebellion. A place wedged between a gleaming expanse of white sand and an ancient mountain range, where the sun melted slowly into an azure ocean, and there was nothing to do except lie on the beach and soak up the sun. And Han intended to do just that.

Except…he smiled to himself as he considered what he _hoped_ to do. He had made a bet with Leia—a small wager as a result of an incident that had occurred at the end of the last work cycle. Something which promised to add a touch of spice to the holiday.

Han had bet Leia that she couldn't _not_ work for the duration of their vacation. From the moment they boarded the _Falcon_ until they returned, he guaranteed that she would not give her full attention to enjoying herself, the occasion and him. At some stage, he'd told her, she would talk about work, think about it, or read something related to work.

Leia, in turn, had wagered that Han could not behave himself for the two-week period. She had clarified this to include insults, arguments, being impolite, flippant and disrespectful. As an afterthought she had added that she wanted him to leave his blaster behind. He had hedged at this proviso, until Leia's eyes had sparked triumphantly, then he quickly agreed.

The wager had been sealed with a handshake, a heated kiss, and a passionate session of love making.

And the winnings? As neither believed the other could last the distance, it was agreed that whenever one of them failed to uphold their pledge, the other chose what they would do next—the winner's pleasure. Han already had some ideas as to what his pleasure would be.

Yawning and stretching, Solo placed the core of the stella fruit next to the rhodendra container. With a few hours until Leia was home, the idea of a nap seemed appealing. He closed his eyes and recalled the incident which had led up to the wager being placed.

A wistful smile touched Han's lips. Yes, a man definitely could get used to this life…


	2. Chapter 2

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **II**

 _ONE WEEK EARLIER…_

"Have I told you I love you?"

Leia's eyes met Han's and her face blushed, from the wine and his words. Even after more than a year together as a couple, his simple pledge still sent a thrill careening through her. How the man managed to do things like this to her was a complete mystery.

"You told me this morning, when we left for work," Leia explained.

His hand was warm and large around hers, and his leg pressed against the outer edge of her thigh.

"And on the way out tonight."

Leia smiled at that thought. It had taken them two attempts to make it out through the front door. Despite making love prior to showering and dressing for a casual dinner at a restaurant, their first effort to leave had proven unsuccessful. Han had been watching the end of a smashball game while Leia finished her preparations in the refresher ensuite. However when Leia had entered the living area in an off-the-shoulder shimmersilk dress, the game had quickly been forgotten. He had gallantly offered her his arm to escort her through the front door, and kissed her gently on the cheek. Reflexively, his kiss had moved to her neck, her sighs encouraging his lips to brush down to the exposed flesh of her shoulder. They hadn't even made it as far as the bedroom.

After freshening up, re-dressing, and tidying up the mess they had made on the sofa, the couple finally made it out the front door, though Leia had been required to forcefully turn Han's shoulders and spank him on the backside when he had moved to kiss her neck again.

"I knew there was another reason why I love you," he had said with a grin.

Now, with a wonderful meal complete, their lively dinner conversation had drifted into a comforting silence as they sat next to each other in the booth, legs touching, fingers entwined, entranced with these simple pleasures. Smoky brown eyes stared into colour-shifting hazel, conveying happiness, peace, friendship and a teasing hint of lust.

 _Bedroom eyes,_ Leia thought. No matter whether he was pinned down by a cascade of blaster fire, piloting maniacally through an asteroid field, arguing with the full power of an ion drive, or quietly staring at her from across the room, there was something Han did with his eyes that loosened her self-control and thawed her resolve. Wearing the shirt and trousers she had recently bought for him, and doing that thing with his eyes, Leia thought he looked agonisingly handsome, and she couldn't believe how much she loved him.

The bass of his voice reverberated in her chest. "Have I told you I love you within the last hour?"

Smiling, Leia shook her head demurely. "No, I don't think so."

"Well then," Han said softly. "Maybe I should."

The smile slipped up the right side of his face and Leia nearly melted.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Hey," Han protested, "that's my line." He grinned and winked at her.

"Princess Leia! How nice to see you."

Without thinking, Leia's fingers slipped from Han's and she looked to see who had addressed her. A slender, red-haired young man, Enash Mordy, was moving towards her past the tables and booths, his face beaming brightly in the soft light. Enash Mordy, the representative for Sita Creti VII, was one of the few councillors who Leia actually liked and had considerable time for.

Her initial displeasure at being interrupted was subsumed by her fondness for Enash and a sudden reminder that she had been unsuccessfully trying to contact Enash for the past few days.

"Enash." Leia glanced warily across at Han, caught a darkness shift across his eyes, but rose to greet her colleague. "What a pleasant surprise."

Enash drew himself to a formal halt, sketched a shallow bow, and warmly clasped Leia's outstretched hand in both of his, causing her to chuckle fondly. Solo bristled.

"I've been trying to see you for days!" Enash beamed. After the relative tranquillity prior to his arrival, the councillor's voice seemed loud and chirpy. "But you're never in your office. You're always at meetings or presentations or receptions. Do you know how hard it is to keep up with you?"

"I do," Solo grunted.

Leia ignored Han's remark, slightly disappointed that he still hadn't learned he couldn't monopolise her time for himself, and deliberately focused her attention on Enash.

"Excuse me, Eni," Leia parried playfully, "but I've been leaving messages for _you_ for days. There are some very serious issues arising from the Inner Core Trade and Finance Conference and I doubt anyone has considered the full implications and ramifications. We really need to talk."

"I've heard that before," Han muttered. He clutched his wineglass, drank from it deeply.

Enash bobbed his head in animated agreement. "Oh, I couldn't agree more, Leia."

The informal use of her name stopped Han mid-gulp.

"I've been desperate to see you all cycle," Enash continued. "But we keep on missing each other. Like ships passing in a nebular storm."

The young man emphasised the allusion with a dramatic movement of his hands and Solo snorted into his glass. Leia sidled a suitable glare at Han that he pointedly returned.

Enash Mordy raised his dimpled chin in interest, as if noticing the man seated at the table for the first time.

"Eni," Leia said through almost-clenched teeth, "I don't believe you've met my…"—Leia still hadn't found a suitable word to describe her relationship with Han and she wasn't feeling particularly creative or charitable at the moment—"…companion."

Leia's description of him caught Han off guard and he frowned at her, silently mouthing the word, _Companion?_

Enash extended his hand to the befuddled Corellian who was slowly rising to his feet.

"Enash Mordy, councillor for Sita Creti VII and member of the New Republic Economic Forum." Leia gestured to Han. "May I introduce General Han Solo."

"Hero of the Rebel Alliance," Solo said, clutching Mordy's hand in a vice-like grip that caused the younger man to wince. He grinned darkly at Leia. "And companion to princesses."

Perceptive enough to understand the extent of their relationship, and the non-too-subtle tension between the couple, Enash flashed an apologetic smile.

"It's very nice to meet you, General. I've heard a lot about you."

"I wish I could say the same," Solo replied stiffly.

An exasperated princess could not refrain herself. "Han."

"Please," Enash began. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll allow you to continue—"

"You haven't interrupted, Eni," Leia hurriedly explained. "We've just finished our meal."

Han really had to learn some manners when it came to socialising with diplomats and politicians. They weren't, after all, sitting in the rear booth of a cantina frequented by smugglers and mercenaries. He had to learn how to be pleasant and agreeable when it was the last thing he felt like doing. He had to learn how to amiably converse with all manner of sentients across a diverse range of topics. And, most importantly, he had to learn how to share her with others.

"Won't you join us for a drink?" Leia asked. "Perhaps we could go over a few of the main areas I'd like your opinion on."

Beside her, Leia felt whatever traces left of Solo's romantic mood congeal into cold anger.

"Leia," he growled under his breath.

Slightly irritated, she turned her head towards him.

"This is important," she whispered.

His eyes hardened. "It can wait."

"No. It can't."

His head tilted questioningly. "And I can?"

 _We could have done this the easy way,_ she tried to convince herself. _Or the hard way. I should have known he would prefer to make things difficult._

Leia moved around in the booth to allow Enash to sit next to her. When she brushed against Han, he stepped away from her.

The Sita Cretian looked uncertainly at the couple. "I don't wish to intrude—"

"You're not intruding," Leia explained. "And why not mix pleasure with business."

Enash considered the scowling Corellian one final time, as if gauging the wisest course of action. "If you're absolutely certain I won't be—"

"Sit down, Mordy," Solo bluntly ordered. He pushed his glass and the remains of the bottle of wine towards him. "I'm sure the Princess will prefer your company to mine at the moment."

 _About the most sensible thing you've said in the last few minutes,_ Leia thought haughtily. She could barely believe that the stubborn man at her side was giving in without a fight.

"'Sides," Han added, drawling his words in an exaggerated Corellian accent. "I need t' take a leak and the Princess will be lost without someone t' companion her."

"Oh, er…" Enash was perplexed at how to respond.

Something small and delicate shattered inside Leia. Her fingers groped for Han's hand, hoping to offer truce or apology with a touch, a gentle squeeze, but he edged out of the booth without hesitation or a further look. For a few moments she watched him stride towards the restrooms, chiding herself for not handling the situation, or Han, better. He may have needed re-education, but he didn't need his nose rubbed in it.

Leia quickly decided that she would let him kick a few things in the restroom, have a few drinks alone at the bar, chew on his anger, and then see if he wanted to make up with her. Making up with Han after a disagreement _did_ have its benefits. But for now, she had a guest to attend and business to discuss.

"Please, Eni." The princess forced a smile to dispel his concerns. "Have a seat."

After kicking the doors in the restrooms a few times, Solo took a seat at the vacant bar and ordered himself a straight shot of roubron. By the third shot, his anger had cooled sufficient for him to recognise that this was a sure way of getting drunk, and getting drunk meant not being lucid enough to either continue this fight with Leia, or gloat when she came to apologise. Regardless of who eventually won, he didn't want to be incapacitated when it was time for making up.

Solo ordered himself a simple Corellian brandy and sat there for a while, swirling the contents of the glass and wondering why in blazes he had to fall in love with a woman who at times infuriated him. He loved her passionately—more than life itself—loved being with her and near her, touching her, listening to her voice. He loved seeing her last thing at night and first thing in the morning, and perhaps even more, he loved curling around her petite body, his larger physique cradling hers as they slept. But, try as he may (admittedly, he didn't try _that_ hard), he couldn't understand this damn work ethic of hers, or the way she so frequently sacrificed herself, and now him, for the greater 'good' of the New Republic.

"Can I buy you another?"

The unexpected question startled Solo from his reverie. He cast an approving eye at the tall, handsome woman by his side. Her dark eyes held his with confidence and good humour. The black slinky dress she wore emphasised the long curves of her slender body, the high collar clasping her throat and the hem line brushing the heels of her shoes. Her blue-black hair was cut short away from her face, highlighting her fine nose and cheekbones. It was a look Leia would never dream of, nor get away with, wearing.

Despite himself, Solo's pulse rate increased and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. This wasn't the first time a lady had offered to buy him a drink, but it _was_ the first time in a long time since it had happened, and particularly the first time since he'd become involved with Leia.

Han looked over his shoulder towards the booth Leia and Mordy occupied, noted they were deep in conversation. His gaze returned to the woman's. An amused smile twitched on her full lips, an unspoken challenge dancing in her eyes; she had watched the track of his eyes.

Annoyed at his anxious response to the woman and his instinctive glance at Leia, and dimly wondering how much of a moron he really was, Solo drained the alcohol from his glass.

"Why not," he invited with a non-committal smile.

"Why not indeed," the woman agreed.

She ordered a Corellian brandy for him and a fluted glass of sparkling wine for herself. She waited for the bar tender to deposit the drinks on the counter before settling herself on the high-backed stool next to Han, an action he took time to appreciate. The woman raised her glass towards him, eyed him over the rim.

"Clear skies," she intoned.

Surprised, Solo returned the salute. "Clear skies." He tasted the brandy, relished the burning sensation in his throat. "You don't look like a spacer."

Her chuckle was deep and genuine. "But you are," she explained. "Corellian, I believe. I was being polite."

Trying not to stare as the woman crossed her long legs, Han glanced a little nervously in Leia's direction, then back at the woman. She smirked at him and tasted her wine.

"I see she's finally let you off the leash," the woman noted.

The comment was aimed squarely at Leia, and it ruffled Han slightly.

"Do I know you?" he tersely asked.

The woman sipped at her wine and smiled again. "No, no you don't," she explained, extending an elegantly manicured hand towards him. "I'm Kelithan del Rado. Please, call me Kel."

Her handshake was warm and firm, suggesting she used it often and to great effect. There was something about her grip that seemed to nullify the affront she had made against Leia. Intrigued as to where this was heading, Solo decided to ride it out, thinking he could always eject if the going got rough.

"Han Solo," he told her, though he expected she already knew.

"Very nice to meet you, Han Solo," Kel replied.

They were silent for a while as they respectively sipped at their drinks.

"So how do you know I'm a spacer?" Han finally said.

Kel toyed with the stem of the wineglass.

"I asked around," she explained with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

Not knowing if he really wanted an answer, Han asked, "And why did you do that?"

Her stare fixed him as effectively as a tractor beam. "Because I'm interested."

"Interested?" The lump in his throat half-strangled the word, and his voice cracked like a teenager's.

Two years ago and he would've been 'interested' as well. Hell, two years ago and he would've already been heading for the nearest hotel with this lady on his arm. But that was a different life, a different Han Solo. He wouldn't do that now. Not when he was so deeply committed to Leia.

He fought the inclination to glance in Leia's direction.

Kel's smiled dropped. "I'm a business woman, Solo. I'm interested in doing business."

Relief subsumed panic. Of course. The woman was interested in doing business, not _doing_ him.

The old smuggler instincts flicked back on and Solo leaned forward, attracted by indulgent memories of a life he had left behind for good. She wanted to offer him work, buy his services for whatever reason. He scolded his over-active imagination.

Knowing that he would never go through with anything illegal, Han still found himself asking, "What sort of business are you interested in?"

Kel's smile returned and her eyebrows raised questioningly. "What sort of an arrangement do you have with Princess Organa?"

Han grinned. He supposed Kel wanted to know how much of an influence the Princess had over him. Admittedly his behaviour had changed in the time they'd been together as a couple, however he still liked to think of himself as a 'free spirit'; he listened to Leia's advice, but didn't necessarily take it. What was the description Leia had used…?

"I'm her companion," Han told Kel.

Kel nodded thoughtfully. "And how much is the arrangement worth?"

A frown clenched his brow. _Did I miss something here?_ Had his suspicions been right the first time? That _was_ a decidedly predator look aimed at him. _What has this got to do with a business deal?_

Feeling guilty for no apparent reason, Han looked into his glass, then gulped at the brandy. Kel's hand touched his knee and he quickly looked back at her, his confidence uncharacteristically choosing that moment to desert him. A serious misunderstanding was developing.

"It-it's not like that," Han stammered, hoping he looked as naïve as he felt.

 _Leia will kill me._

Kel's hand squeezed his knee as she watched him squirm, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Playing hard to get, Han?" Kel asked quietly. "Come on. You expect me to believe a princess, a member of royalty, has chosen a Corellian spacer as consort?"

"I'm not a consort," Han shot back hotly. Dammit, he'd been waiting for someone to throw that title at him one day.

"I know," Kel agreed. "But I figure you must be giving Her Highness exactly what she wants, otherwise she wouldn't keep you on-line. And if you're good enough to keep an Alderaani princess happy, then I'm interested in acquiring some of that happiness too."

Han had always considered himself a capable and selfless lover, especially since Leia had added the previously missing element of love to his knowledge of lovemaking. It gave him no end of fulfilment to know that only he gave such pleasure to his beautiful princess. As a lover he had never betrayed any confidences of the bedroom, and now given the opportunity to boast about his abilities, he thought it prudent to keep his big mouth shut for a change.

Still, there was something about the transaction Kel suggested which made his blood tingle. Not the _idea_ of initiating anything with this attractive and most definitely seductive woman. It was the misconception that apparently existed about his relationship with Leia that suddenly aroused Han. The image of Leia as a lascivious woman who _paid_ a Corellian spacer to meet her carnal desires was immediately laughable—yet, when considered more carefully, he could see how someone might come to that conclusion. It was a fantasy that appealed to him immensely.

Han glanced down into his glass to steady himself, then turned his head towards Kel, allowed the lazy, lopsided smile to slink across his face. Two could play at this. What harm would it do to flirt a little, bend the truth a little? Titillate a lonely businesswoman, and himself, then allow his Princess to collect him and meet her every desires.

"Well then," Solo grinned, "I guess the secret's out."

Kel's hand caressed his thigh, sparking a dangerous thrill within him.

"Oh, it's no secret, lover," Kel told him. "You've aroused the interest of more than a handful of women throughout Coruscant. And a few gentleman, as well, I believe."

"I'm strictly a ladies man."

"And that's all I'm interested in."

The knowledge that some sentients found him physically and sexually attractive was not a new concept to Han, but it was flattering to think someone wanted to pay for his talents. He toyed with the idea of being Leia's party boy, vaguely wondered how much he was worth and how far he could go with this deception before he got himself into trouble.

Unexpectedly, another part of Han quickly became uncomfortable with the lie he was helping to perpetuate, and the guilt-prone side of his conscience argued that in some way he was betraying Leia. At this thought he looked across at the princess. As effectively as if he had activated a distress beacon, Leia's head swivelled in his direction and their eyes locked.

Kel's nails tapped against Han's cheek as she took hold of his jaw and turned his head back towards her.

"Stop looking at the princess," she reprimanded. "I was right about the leash, that's for sure. You're as nervous as a guilty husband."

"Just keeping track of the boss, that's all," Han lied. "She'd go hyper if she thought I was talking to a competitor."

 _Leia_ _ **will**_ _kill me._

Kel raised an interested eyebrow. "She would, would she?"

Hoping the deck would level out soon, Han tried settling further into this new role he had created.

"I don't have much freedom and the hours are long, but the benefits are definitely worth it."

 _Oh, you slut, Solo._

Kel's firm hand returned to his thigh, her long fingers massaging his inner leg. He wished it didn't feel so wickedly good.

 _And you're too damned easy!_

"I've always had a weakness for Corellians," Kel explained with an indulgent shake of her head.

"That's understandable."

She grinned appreciatively. "And I like a man who's confident of his own abilities."

"Well you've come to the right man."

 _Leia will kill_ _ **me**_ _._

Her caresses ceased abruptly, but the hand remained possessively on his thigh.

"I think we understand each other enough to open negotiations," Kel told him. "Here's the deal."

The words no longer held the same magic for Solo as they once had, yet in spite of this he couldn't curb his interest.

"I'll give you your freedom, lover," Kel explained. "You keep the hours you like, and you can conduct any other business on the side. You can even continue to 'play' general if that's how you get your kicks. But I want you on call whenever I need you. Sometimes it will be for the duration of a night. Other times I may only require you for an hour or so. _Please_ me, and there will be additional bonuses." Her fingernails scraped absently against the fabric of his trousers. "And for all of this, I'm offering whatever Her Highness is paying, plus ten percent."

"Ten percent, huh?" It sounded like a generous offer; Han wished he knew, just for interest's sake, how much that would actually be.

Kel removed her hand from his thigh and straightened his collar, the sharpness of her fingernail trailing along his throat.

"It's a fair offer." Her dark eyes stared into his. "But I'd like a sample before I commit."

Han found himself floundering again. _What am I getting myself into?_

"A sample?"

"'Try before you buy'," she said playfully, "isn't that how the saying goes?"

 _Eject, eject, eject!_

Han was at a loss for words, but the woman failed to notice.

"When can you get away from her?" Kel whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

"Get away…?" Han's pulse increased again and sweat gathered under his arms.

 _Leia will_ _ **kill**_ _me._

Del Rado smiled indulgently as she rose from the stool and slipped a holo-card into the pocket of his shirt

"My business card," she explained. "Call me at work or at home, anytime. If you need to leave a message, don't make it obvious." She touched his cheek before adding, "I'm a very busy woman, lover, and I don't have time to waste. Call. Soon. And don't disappoint me."

Kel kissed him softly on the lips, turned and left.

Han was too overwhelmed to admire the carriage she struck as she departed the restaurant. He drained his glass, ran a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. The ego-boosting encounter had turned decidedly dangerous. What had he been thinking? He was lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed.

' _A little bit of flirting can't hurt?'_ he quoted back to himself. _Moron._

The light touch of a hand on his shoulder caused Solo to jump.

"Hey, easy," Leia soothed.

His alarm dissolved to momentary relief, then bubbled up into a dizzying mix of guilt enveloped in excuses. He opened his mouth to speak, while his mind searched for the right thing—anything—to say. He barely noticed as Leia brushed her thumb across the corner of his mouth to wipe away the tell-tale smudge of Kel's lipstick.

"Del Rado certainly seems friendly," Leia remarked dryly.

Numb with confusion and grappling for suitable explanations, Han nearly missed Leia's comment.

"Yeah, she is." He stared at her blankly and frowned. "Hey. How do you know her?"

"More to the point," Leia asked, hands on hips and head cocked to one side, "how _well_ do you know her?"

Han grimaced, half-shrugged. "First time I've met her."

Leia leaned casually against the bar, pausing to push aside the glass del Rado had been drinking from.

"Kelithan del Rado is a very capable business entrepreneur," Leia explained, her eyes following the path the woman had just taken, as if she could detect a trace of her in the wake she had left. "Currently she's involved with a merchant shipping company, a financial investment service and she's on the board of the New Republic Trade Council. I've met with her at a few functions and meetings. In my experience, she's a woman who plays hard and usually gets what she wants." Leia looked back at Han, searched his face but his eyes remained averted. "What _did_ she want?"

Han's eyes meekly returned to Leia's. His face was a study of pure innocence, or at least what he thought innocence looked like.

"Me."

Leia's brow knitted, further questions poised on her lips. Upon seeing her indecisive reaction, Han decided to jump in at deep end and get it over with quick.

"I think I just solicited a second job for myself."

Leia cleared her throat. "What did she suggest?"

"Seems she can't believe a princess would get involved with a guy like me."

"Understandable," Leia teased in a deadpan voice.

Han resolutely ignored the jibe. Here he was, trying to be honest, and all she could do was pay out on him.

Han took her hand and upped the stakes with a devilish grin. "She figures you must be paying me to keep your bed warm."

Stunned at his revelation, Leia allowed him to draw her closer. "You're not serious."

Solo rested his hands on her hips, his eyes roaming over her hungrily as his intentions of what he wanted to do with her rolled through his mind. Leia was still taking in what he had told her and didn't recognise where this was heading.

"Why not?" Han bent his mouth towards her neck. "Corellians are renowned for their abilities as lovers, and you certainly have a veracious sexual appetite." His words were muffled as his lips moved against her skin.

"Sshhhh!" Leia pushed against his shoulders, squirming in his grasp as she looked around anxiously. "Not here! Not now!" she whispered.

Han pulled her closer, passion swirling in his veins. "You might have to look at increasing my allowance, Your Highnessness. Del Rado offered me whatever you're paying plus ten percent."

"Ten percent of nothing?" Leia queried, her body tense with rejection. "She's measured your value."

His advances ceased with a cold finality. Staring at her resentfully, he released his hold and swung around in the stool back towards the bar. He snatched up his glass, realised it was empty, then slammed it down again and ordered another. Leia folded her arms across her chest as she watched him.

The silence between them was palpable. Presently his drink arrived, and Solo swallowed a mouthful with a flourish.

"So what happened to _your_ friend?" he asked quietly, his vacant gaze staring at the counter top.

"We spoke about a few matters," Leia said curtly. "Then when I saw you floundering over here, I excused myself and came to rescue you."

"I had everything perfectly under control, thank you." The brandy tasted bitter in his mouth and Han knew he hadn't really wanted another drink in the first place.

"And that's why she left when she saw me coming over," Leia suggested. "Han, she was looking at you as if you were on the dessert menu. I could see her eating you alive then picking her teeth with your bones."

 _That I can believe,_ Solo thought, toying with the glass as if he _was_ intending to have another drink after all.

Leia sighed and rubbed her fingers into her temple. "So when do you intend meeting with del Rado again?"

 _Clever,_ Han conceded. The princess certainly knew how to match him when it came to playing this one for all it was worth.

Solo dug the business card from his shirt pocket, twirled it thoughtfully around his fingers and looked across at Leia.

"She told me to call her," Han explained. "I figure the next time you choose work over me, I might look at making a few extra credits on the side. After all, a man's gotta have a hobby."

Leia's spine straightened. "That's not fair."

"No?" Han sounded like he already knew the answer.

"You know I have work commitments and responsibilities."

"So do I, but I don't let 'em rule my life." He punctuated the sentence by gulping at the brandy, then tried not to screw his face up at the acidity.

"We've been through this before," Leia pointed out tiredly.

"And we're going through it again."

She sighed again, raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Please, Han. I don't want to make a scene in public."

He turned to face her, leered suggestively. "Well, let's go home and fight. I _feel_ like a good fight."

"You've had too much to drink. I don't want to discuss this when you're drunk."

"I'm not as sober as I could be, Princess, but I ain't drunk."

Their journey to the Alderaani Embassy was strained with tension. Arms clasped across her chest, Leia walked a few paces in front of Han as he followed in mock subservience, whistling a half-forgotten tune.

Back inside her apartment, Leia headed for the kitchen and filled herself a glass of water from the dispenser. She heard Han throw himself onto the sofa with the deliberate flounce he knew annoyed her. She shook her head, drank the water and calmed herself down.

The night had been going so well. How could it have ended up like this?

 _Stubborn, bone-headed Corellian…_

Was he be right? Did she really care more about her work than she cared about him? She knew that wasn't so. Maybe she just wasn't as good at prioritising her public life around her private life. After all, she'd never really had a private life before; this was all fairly new ground for her. But it wasn't _all_ her fault. He could at least be a bit more understanding. And he didn't have to be so rude to her colleagues when he didn't get his own way. Perhaps both of them could learn something from this.

When Leia realised she was loitering in the kitchen in the hope that Han would fall asleep and forestall any impending argument, she urged herself to enter the living area.

Legs propped across the arm of the sofa and crossed at the ankles, Solo lay there, reclining across three seat cushions, cheerfully wide-awake and an expectant look on his face. Standing on the level above and next to the dining table, Leia gripped the back of a chair and cleared her throat.

"I'll admit," Leia began, "I could have been more considerate of you tonight—"

"That's very gracious of you," he interrupted.

"—but you need to understand that I'm effectively on duty all day, every day. I can't stop working simply because you or the chrono say it's time."

Han slowly sat up.

"I understand, Leia, but I don't necessarily agree or approve."

"Approve?" Leia's knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the chair. "You're a fine one to talk of 'approve'. Would it hurt you so much to keep a civil tongue in your mouth when you're around my colleagues?"

Han shook his head in wonder. "What are you talking about now?"

"Your behaviour. You misbehave like a ten-year-old when you take a dislike to anyone."

She knew it had been the wrong thing to say, especially as she watched his expression harden. He rose from the sofa, silently walked up to the dining table and stood on the opposite side from her.

"How come this is suddenly my fault?" he asked quietly, finger curled towards his chest. "I'm the injured party here. Who dumped who in preference of work?"

"I didn't dump you."

His look told her he wasn't convinced and she doubted she had even convinced herself.

"I thought we had agreed that we need to spend more time together." His eyebrows raised in emphasis, but his voice remained calm. "On our own. Isn't that why we're going to Jenolan? To be alone?"

Leia's gaze dropped to the tabletop as Han continued.

"But if our vacation is going to be anything like tonight, then you can count me out 'cause there's no way I'm playing second jizz to the New Republic."

Leia's eyes remained on the table, her jaw tightly clenched, mind racing with blame and recriminations against him, yet her heart told her he was closer to the truth than she was. The thought alarmed her. And perhaps part of her was still a bit jealous—and also a lot scared—of the approach del Rado had made towards her…her…what _was_ the right word to describe Han? 'Scoundrel' was totally inadequate. 'Boyfriend'? 'Man'? She didn't even know _what_ to call him.

"So." Her voice wavered. It had been a long night. A long and emotional night. "So, now you don't want to go away with me?"

"Leia." He sighed in frustration. "Come here."

She didn't move—didn't want to move. She needed the reassurance of him coming to her. She looked up as his arms wrapped around her, pressed her head against his shoulder, enjoying the sensation of being enveloped in the physical display of his love for her.

"You're such a moron sometimes," he told her, lips brushing against the top of her head. "I'm worried I'm starting to brush off on you too much."

She made a small laugh at his joke, just for him, not because she felt like laughing. He held her tighter.

"I want to go to Jenolan with you," he whispered fiercely. "I want to be alone with you. I want to spend every minute of our vacation just looking at you, holding you. I like the thought of making love whenever we damn well feel like it. Because we can." He kissed her forehead, then pushed her away from his shoulder so he could look into her eyes. "But I want you to be there with me. In mind and spirit as well as in body."

She solemnly returned his gaze. "I'll be there."

His eyes reflected his gratitude for her pledge, but his head tilted and he grimaced. "Are you sure? Can you really leave all of this behind? The meetings. The reports. The decisions." He dared a cheeky grin. "Eni?"

Leia's punch to his arm was more instinctive than deliberate.

"Ow!"

"I can do that!" Leia exclaimed.

Laughter danced in his eyes. "I bet you can't!"

She pummelled her small fist against his arm when he grinned again. His hold around her shoulders slipped down her back and he pulled her closer.

"Bet you can't!" he dared.

The challenge and his proximity ignited her. She wanted to give him some form of commitment that she was willing to make this vacation work. He was right—partly—about the amount of time she spent at work. Yes, she neglected their relationship at times. Mainly because she was too busy and involved to give their relationship the attention it deserved. But she could certainly show him a thing or two about putting his credits where his mouth was. She hadn't been sitting on her hands during her time in the former Imperial Senate.

"Are you proposing a wager, Solo?" she queried.

Han's ears pricked up and his laughter stopped suddenly. He regarded her quizzically, mouth slowly widening into a knowing smile.

"I'm out of your league, Princess," he said smugly.

"Oh, you are, are you?"

He grinned and nodded. "Yeah."

"Like to bet on that?" she asked sweetly.


	3. Chapter 3

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **III**

Leia knew Han was in the apartment before she keyed open the front door, although she couldn't decide which of her skills had brought her to that conclusion first.

It could possibly have been the one useful Jedi 'trick' Luke had taught her before he had left; Leia had honed in on the distinctive pattern Han's life energy made in the Force, the shifting ebb and flow which burned especially bright for her.

It could have been Han's predictable behaviour—although they hadn't made any prior arrangements, it was the night before cycle-end so she expected to see him in her apartment.

And there was also the rather bemused smirk Security Captain Wingrove made as she had bade him greeting, and the perplexed, almost embarrassed look from the new desk attendant—Drewin—as Leia had passed by.

Yes, all of these indicators suggested that her 'scoundrel' had made himself at home.

As had become her practice upon entering new situations, Leia now sent out calming tendrils of the Force to smooth her entrance and dispel any stress or unpleasantness. It also had the added advantage of masking her presence so that she arrived unexpectedly. This way, Han would be unable to anticipate her arrival the way he so often did with his uncanny natural instinct.

The apartment lights gradually increased in strength as Leia stood inside the front door and looked around. Her irritation flared briefly as she noticed Han's discarded jacket laying rumpled across the sofa, then quickly dismissed it when she saw the dionsyr bud on the dining table. The man was most definitely a scoundrel—he certainly knew how to win her over.

The dim light coming from her bedroom drew her towards it, and she stopped at the threshold. Boots still on and fully clothed, Han lay stretched out on the bed, an arm across his stomach, head turned slightly to the side, blissfully and peacefully asleep. Shaking her head, Leia took in the cast-off blaster on the floor, the open milk container on the bedside table, and the remains of the fruit.

Continuing to mask her presence, Leia moved to his side, leaned down and kissed his forehead. Han awoke with a start, old reflexes forcing his right hand to clutch uselessly at the vacant spot on his thigh where his blaster normally rested. His eyes quickly registered Leia's face and, grinning ruefully, relaxed in a heap, a rush of adrenalin pouring through his system. Leia sat down next to him, chuckling at his response and mentally using a phrase she had picked up from him some time ago, _Gotcha!_

Running a hand across his face, Han admonished, "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I think this life is agreeing with you too much." Leia poked a finger into his stomach. "You're getting soft, flyboy."

Leia yelped in surprise as, with a deep-throated growl, Solo dragged her onto his chest, then rolled both of them over so he was pinning her to the bed. Her legs accommodated his body as he snuggled into her, his hands trying to find an opening in the thick council robes she wore, head poised above her chest. Leia wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'll show you who's soft, Princess," he promised.

Leia smirked at the gleam in his eye. "Well, you're certainly straight to the point."

"That's why you love me."

"True."

Leia dragged her fingers across the stubble on his jaw and Solo quickly reigned in his desires, hiding a frustrated grimace against her chest.

"What did you do today?" she asked.

Not wanting a lecture for behaving irresponsibly, Han considered it best not to tell her about his excuse for a test flight of the _Falcon_. His thumb polished the sensitive inside of her wrist while his other hand stroked the side of her ribs through the folds of her robes.

"Oh, you know, 'general' stuff."

"Such as?"

Han knew that Leia knew he was hedging.

"Let's see." He pushed the sleeve up her arm, smoothing her inner arm and elbow. "I polished my medals and my ceremonial sword. My blaster. Straightened the holo of you on my desk. Then I ruined a few careers to round off the day."

Han was uncertain if she was satisfied with his response, but she didn't question him further. Laying there, feeling the warmth of her body beneath his and listening to her breathing, he doubted she had heard a word he had said.

His hand absently caressed her breast and he felt her stiffen almost imperceptibly beneath. He had gone too fast, ruined any chance of a pre-dinner interlude. He removed his roving hand and instead laced his fingers through hers.

"So what happened to you today?" Han asked.

Leia hesitated before answering, "Nothing much."

"You wanna tell me about that nothing?"

Leia smiled fondly and pushed her fingers through his tousled hair.

"Just some incredibly long and ineffectual meetings with my colleagues. But they refuse to make decisions in council. They're forever referring matters to committees for follow-up action." She sighed and made a disgruntled noise. "Half of the councillors seem more concerned with the layout of their offices, the colour of council chambers, or what official functions we should hold. Sometimes I feel as though we're achieving nothing." She paused for a moment, then added, "And I've had a headache all day."

"If that ain't a hint for a neck massage, I don't know what is," Han opined.

Leia released his hand to cuff him lightly on the backside and he wiggled into her suggestively.

"Keep that up and we'll be back to my original plan," he suggested

"Han."

"What?" he innocently asked. He pressed a conciliatory kiss to her hand. "So what else got you so tense?"

"It's just work, I suppose." Leia rubbed her brow. "I don't know. Maybe you're right."

"Me? Right?"

She ignored his flippant interruption. "Maybe I do need this vacation."

"You _deserve_ this vacation, beautiful."

She kissed the top of his head, tugged playfully at his earlobe. "Thank you for talking me into it."

"Thank you for coming."

Content to hold each other, they lay silently, enjoying the touch of their bodies pressed together, the rhythmic sound of their breathing. Han allowed his eyes to close, the vestiges of sleep ensnaring him again.

"Oh. Luke's back." Leia's voice came from a great distance. "He came and saw me as soon as he arrived.

"Great," Han mumbled. "Be good to have him around again."

"He said he was going to drop in on you today."

That woke him. "Oh?"

"You didn't see him then?" Leia's voice sounded deceptively casual.

Han suggested, "I must've been out when he dropped by."

"I'm sure that was it."

Leia continued stroking his hair. The familiar, comforting silence returned and Han's eyes closed again. When Leia's hand stopped moving, he suspected she had drifted off to sleep.

"I invited Luke to Jenolan with us."

"You did what?"

Han sat up and gaped at Leia but her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

"I haven't seen him for such a long time," she explained. "It'd be a shame to leave now when he's only just returned."

Han almost shook his head in bewilderment. "You invited Luke? To Jenolan? With us?"

Leia met his gaze and trailed her fingers down his cheek. "He looked like he could do with a vacation," she soothed.

Han groused, "Isn't that where he's been for the last five months?"

Her hand left his face. "Don't be silly."

Now Han _did_ shake his head. "I don't believe this. It took me so long to convince you we need to spend some time on our own. And all the trouble I went through persuading Chewie to go home to Kashyyyk, and now you invite your brother along as chaperone."

"It'll be fun," Leia offered brightly. "The three of us. Like old times."

"Old times?" Han sneered. "As I recall, 'old times' usually involved someone trying to kill us!"

Leia's placating mood slipped. "Now _you're_ being ridiculous."

Han pointed a finger at his own chest. " _I'm_ being ridiculous?"

"Han, I don't want to fight about this."

"I'm being ridiculous?"

Leia grit her teeth. "He's already accepted the invitation. I can't un-invite him."

"I can."

Han's assertion froze under the ice of her glare. It wasn't quite a whimper, more a dispirited sigh escaping from his chest as he rolled himself off Leia and lay next to her on the bed. He closed his eyes and dropped his arm across his face. His plans for a quiet, intimate vacation had vaporised. He should've known things had been going too smoothly. He wanted to argue with her. Yell and rave. But he knew it would make no difference. She was as stubborn as he was. She had made up her mind; she wanted Luke along. He remembered back to their previous disagreement about spending time alone together. Honestly, he didn't want another row with her like that, even if he had won. He needed to show her he could be reasonable, that he was prepared to give and take. How could he convince her to marry him or let him live with her if he argued with every decision he disagreed with?

Leia shifted onto her side and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Han."

He didn't move, refused to acknowledge her. To his way of thinking, he could be reasonable, but he didn't have to like it.

Leia sat up, touched her hand to his chest. "Han."

She tickled his ribs and tried the pet name he loathed. "Hani."

She thought she caught a hint of a grin or a grimace as she tried to pry the arm from his face, sensed his passion flicker.

"Hani." She tried to move his arm again. "It will be fun. I promise. And if it's not, we'll do it all over again. By ourselves."

"It was gonna be just you and me," he muttered. "No meetings or datawork. No Imperials. No councillors. _No_ Jedi."

Leia swallowed deeply. "I'll make it up to you," she offered. "I promise."

His arm remained dramatically slung across his face, but she noticed his mood spark brightly.

"You owe me, Leia," he told her. "Big time."

Her lips pursed thoughtfully and nodding in agreement, she began pulling the shirt out of the waistband of his trousers and unfastening it. Smoothing the front of the shirt apart, her fingers lightly brushed over his stomach, ruffled the hair on his chest. He shivered at her touch but his arm remained covering his face.

Grinning, Leia moved to the end of the bed and tugged his boots and socks off, dropping them to the floor with a clutter. She returned to his waist by way of his legs, hands running over knees and thighs, the muscles contracting under her touch. Her nimble fingers unbuckled his belt, opened the fastening of his trousers. His hips lifted compliantly from the bed to assist her with removing his trousers. Despite the arm still hiding his face, the figure-hugging shorts he wore revealed _exactly_ what he was thinking.

Leia's hand teasingly crept up his thigh. She lingered at his groin until he softly moaned, then peeled off his shorts as he lifted his hips again. His shorts in hand and her work complete, Leia rose from the bed and looked down at him. Naked, save for the unfastened shirt, he lay there expectantly, chest steadily rising, arm still slung across his closed eyes. He generated an intense physical and ethereal heat, and an incredibly inviting sight—skin stretched taut across tight muscles, long legs, narrow waist, broad chest and shoulders. Leia smiled to herself—her scoundrel, and suitably attired.

"What happens now?" His question was a plea in the back of his throat.

"Now we have a 'fresher."

"Mmm. Sounds nice."

"Because Luke will be here in about twenty minutes."

The arm fell from his face. "What?"

Leia turned on the ball of her foot and casually walked into the 'fresher.

"I invited him over for dinner." She placed Han's shorts in the valet hamper and released the braids from her hair. "So we can catch up with him. And discuss the vacation."

She didn't see him drag the pillow over his head, and the patter from the water refresher unit drowned his muffled yell.


	4. Chapter 4

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **IV**

"'Scuse me."

Leia's view of the datapad was blocked as a firm Corellian backside moved between her and the tech station she was seated at. She smiled to herself and looked up at the back of Han's head as he scanned a readout, pushed a few buttons. It was the third time he had positioned himself between her and the datapad, and about the tenth time he had interrupted her reading, albeit this time by 'innocent' means. Twice he had casually run his hand across her shoulders as he wandered past while conducting minor maintenance on the _Falcon_. On the third time the caress turned into a brief massage as he peered over her shoulder, read a few paragraphs of the historical novel she had loaded into the datapad, and screwed up his face in distaste. Other interruptions had consisted of stolen kisses to her cheek, deliberately brushing up against her and even resorting to tugging on the single braid which hung down her back. When he wasn't disturbing her, Leia could feel him hovering close by, staring at her, exuding an air of anticipation and want.

 _He's as chensy as a vornskr in rut,_ Leia considered not for the first time, and using the explicit expression she had picked up from him. She wondered where he got the energy. Two ship-days out from Coruscant, and less than eight hours until they entered the Jenolan system, their time had been their own. Not long after departure, Luke had disappeared into his cabin, claiming a need to continue his meditation exercises. Leia and Han hadn't seen nor heard from Luke since, leaving the ship pretty much to themselves. They had spent their time relaxing, Leia finally catching up on a novel she had been meaning to read for years, while Han tinkered around with the _Falcon_. The couple had also been spending quite a lot of time in Han's cabin, though Leia suspected their activities weren't quite as reflective as Luke's.

Han was far from subtle, even when he was trying to be exactly that, and his distraction was, in turn, driving Leia to distraction. A mischievous smile appeared on Leia's face. He was still blocking her view of the datapad, taking even longer this time to conduct his system checks. Leia placed her hands on either side of his hips, her actions arresting his and causing him to stand upright. An expectant sigh escaped from his lips. Leia grinned indulgently, ran her hands up his narrow waist, back down his hips, fingers following the curve of his backside. _You've got a nice ass, Solo_ , she thought as her thumbs pushed into muscle. _And don't you know it._ She stroked the fabric of his trousers, leaned forward and sank her teeth into his backside. He leapt from her grasp with a gasp of pain.

"Hey!" he cried indignantly, rounding on her and rubbing at his rear.

The look of innocence on Leia's face would have made a certain Corellian proud.

"Isn't that what you had in mind?" she asked virtuously.

"Not right away." He backed away from her, in case she wanted another taste of him. "Ain't you heard of foreplay?"

Leia smiled sweetly. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to say?"

"Cute."

Still rubbing at the ache, Han moved off to find something else to do, muttering to himself ruefully. Leia returned to her novel, but finding it difficult to concentrate, powered down the datapad and rose from the seat. Her gaze wandered around the compartment, immersing herself in the memories the ship held. She remembered the first time she had laid eyes on the _Millennium Falcon_. Like her owner, the battered hulk of a freighter had not immediately inspired confidence. Yet, also like her captain, this ship had never failed to rise to the occasion and prove its mettle when things mattered most. Appearances could be deceptive.

Images and emotions came flooding back to her. Consoling Luke over his loss of Obi-Wan at the holo-game table. Taking up a station in the cockpit as they eluded an Imperial attack. The many tasteless meals of rations, and Han's cooking, she had eaten over the years. The innumerable arguments she had endured with Han before they realized what they meant to each other, and the arguments which had continued even after declaring their love.

Leia closed her eyes. This ship felt good, comfortable—as close to a home as she had known since Alderaan…it somehow seemed fitting it was taking them away on their first vacation as a couple. _A couple, plus one,_ she guiltily amended.

Leia strolled across the compartment and took a seat on the holo-game table. Her Force skills, untrained as they were, still took some getting used to. It unnerved her that her behaviour could be guided by an omnipresent energy, 'mumbo jumbo hocus pocus' to use Han's words. Why she had been compelled to invite Luke was beyond her. There was nothing in the Force which forebode any danger on Jenolan, in fact quite the opposite. The closer she got to actually experiencing her vacation, the lighter and happier her mood became. Why, she hadn't thought about work for at least the last few hours. Thankfully Han couldn't read her mind, otherwise he might have been expecting to collect on their wager.

Han…

A smile curved her lips. In the midst of the jumble of her life, she was lucky to have found him. Oh, he had his faults, and given sufficient time and inclination she could list them. But she loved him in spite of these, and, she suspected, because of them. It seemed as if he was the missing part of her personality, the other half that made her whole. And to think she had come so close to losing him…

"What's up?"

Leia looked up from her recollections. "Hmm?"

Han moved towards her, a frown showing his concern at her subdued mood. He stopped in front of her, smoothed his thumb across her cheek. Leia kissed his palm and smiled fondly.

"Just thinking," she explained. "Reminiscing."

With a tilt of her head, she indicated the circuitry bay across the compartment. His gaze followed hers, then returned to her face, fascinated with the tenor which held her.

"Remember when you kissed me over there?" she asked, her eyes entranced with the memory.

He grinned. "Which time?"

"Asteroids."

"Oh. Yeah." He shrugged nerfishly. "How could I forget?"

Leia looked back at him, brushed an unruly lock of hair from his forehead.

"I was so scared," she admitted.

"Of me?"

"The situation. What might happen between us. What I felt for you." She took his hand, drew him closer. "I thought you were so damn handsome back then."

"What do you mean 'back then'?"

Her lashes lowered as she turned her attention to unfastening his shirt, her fingertips tracing sensuous streams down his chest and abdomen. Sighing softly, he rested his hands on her shoulders and watched the top of her bent head as she placed carefully considered kisses on his bare skin. The seductive smile she gave him when she looked back tripped his racing heart. A tug on his belt pulled him up against the table edge, her legs on either side of his. Brown eyes captured hazel, and she pushed her hand against the front of his trousers, relishing the hardness beneath her touch. He compliantly leaned into her palm and she briefly savoured the control she had over him; her ability to tame him, though confined to the bedroom, was a powerful aphrodisiac.

Her hands moved up to his neck, and she drew his head towards hers, gently kissed the line of his jaw, his earlobe, down and across his neck, pausing to nibble on the bulge of larynx. His hands rubbed up the length of her neck, encouraging her mouth's exploration. Her lips moved up over his chin, across the distinctive scar, and around the edge of his lips. Cradling his face, her kisses became more urgent, sweet and succulent along his upper lip, firm and demanding along the lower. The kiss he returned was deep and passionate, hands stroking her back and breasts, and she wrapped her legs around his hips in response. Leaning over her, he gradually tilted her back until she was lying flat on the table, his mouth moving to her ear, throat and back to her lips again while her fingers tangled in his hair. Leia moaned in pure pleasure.

Breathless with desire, Han looked down at Leia, his body locked against hers at the hips, elbows propping him up.

"How 'bout we finish this conversation in the 'fresher?" he asked.

"Sounds wonderful," Leia purred.

A quick kiss and he scooped her up with casual strength, hugging her against his chest. He adjusted her position against him, supporting the small of her back while she held onto him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

"I've always thought you're the best thing that I wear," he said.

Leia clucked her tongue, kissed his cheek. "You're impossible. But I love you anyway."

"Ah, you have to," he sighed. "I'm just a lovable kinda guy."

Giggling like a pair of lovesick teenagers, he carried her along the circumference of the corridor towards the crew quarters. At the hatchway to the refresher unit, Han could not control his desire to kiss Leia again, and they spent some time leaning against the bulkhead seeing to his needs. Leia eventually broke away.

"Quietly," she whispered. "We'll disturb Luke."

"Luke who?" Han asked, his mouth straining for her neck.

He relented and grappled for the hatchway control switch in the confined space, finally managing to bump the control with his hip. The door slid open.

"Luke." Leia's voice was filled with surprise and disappointment.

Han turned to follow Leia's gaze, his expectations only slightly dampened. It was only Luke, for Kest's sake. He'd understand. That's what friends were for.

Luke stood in the hatchway of his cabin, scratching the back of his neck, a tide of crimson rising over his face.

"Oh, aah….hi," Luke mumbled.

It was not difficult to tell what he had interrupted. Leia sat in Han's arms, her legs wrapped around him, his shirt unfastened and her clothes in disarray. Hair ruffled, cheeks beaming, and a breathlessness about them, it all might have been easy to ignore if they didn't also exude a dizzying, lustful shimmer in the Force.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," he apologised.

Blushing herself, Leia dropped from Han's waist but he possessively kept his arms around her. She smiled at Luke casually and tried to move from Han's side, though not so far that it was obvious.

"You didn't," she said. "We thought you were…involved in your exercises."

Luke wanted to look at the deck but instead found himself staring at the way Han ran his hand up his sister's back.

"I've finished," "Luke replied.

I haven't," Han muttered.

There was a terrible moment of silence where even Leia was too embarrassed to glare at Han.

"You must be hungry," she told Luke.

"A little," Luke admitted.

Han pulled at Leia's arm, all set to take up where he had left off from, but Leia shook his hand off.

"You resent me being here," the young Jedi said calmly, "don't you, Han?"

Leia quickly protested, "That's not true!"

Han stared at Luke evenly, smirked to himself. "I'm not resentful, Luke. More like pissed off."

Leia aimed a small foot into Han's shin.

"Owww!"

Luke placated Leia with a soothing gesture. "It's all right, Leia. I understand how Han feels. But I think you both need to know why I've come along."

"Bantha shit!" Han growled, glowering at Leia and rubbing at his leg. "You don't have the slightest idea how I feel!"

Now it was Luke's turn to smirk knowingly. "I may not have experienced your emotions, Han, but believe me, I know _exactly_ how you feel."

Han cleared his throat. "Exactly?"

Luke couldn't repress a self-satisfied smile. "I can read you like a datachip."

Solo's eyes glinted dangerously. "Well then," Han said softly, edging towards the younger man. "You'll know what I'm planning on doing to you next. Especially if you don't stop reading my mind."

Luke chuckled, folded his arms across his chest. "You're full of it, Solo! You don't really mean that."

"You willing to try me, Skywalker?"

"Boys! Please!" Leia stood between them, arms pushing them apart. She pointed a hard finger into Han's chest. "You! Behave yourself. And you." She stared at Luke harshly. "Stop goading him. You know what he's like."

"He started it!" Han protested.

"Enough!" Leia nailed them both with piercing glares. "We're supposed to be on vacation. Honestly! No enemy forces within parsecs, so you start fighting with each other."

Luke pursed his lips solemnly in subjugation while Han stared at the overhead bulkhead.

"Now I suggest we sit down and discuss this quietly over a cup of kaffe and something to eat." Leia nodded back down the corridor towards the forward compartment. "And I want you both to start playing nicer or I'll turn the _Falcon_ around and we'll go home."

Eyebrows raised and hands hitched on hips, Han looked down at Leia. Watching Han warily, Luke nodded in agreement.

"I'll make the kaffe," Luke offered, and quickly disappeared.

Hiding her smile, Leia waited until Luke was out of earshot, and then waited a moment longer, just to keep Han waiting. His tense posture betrayed all the emotions he was experiencing—annoyance, frustration, disbelief, disappointment. She looked up at him with a pleasant smile.

"What, Han?"

"You'll turn the _Falcon_ around, will ya?"

Her lashes lowered slyly. "It scared him off, didn't it?"

He frowned in confusion until she gathered her arms around his waist, lay her head against his chest. In turn, he placed his arms around her, marvelling at her cunning.

"I wanted some time alone with you," she whispered into his neck. Her hands moved over him, caressing down his back, squeezing his backside, moving up over his hips and pressing against the front of his trousers. "To tell you something."

One of his knees wobbled and he held onto her tighter. She was good with those hands.

"So, tell me," he sighed.

Abruptly ceasing her caresses, she pulled away from him, smiled cheekily. "Round One goes to me, scoundrel. You misbehaved!"

"That's not fair," Han complained. "We haven't started."

"Oh yes we have," Leia pointed out. "We agreed the vacation started as soon as we boarded the _Falcon_. Isn't that why you're not wearing your blaster?"

He tried to say something in protest, but all that came out were mumbled words, whines and groans. He grimaced. "You certainly play dirty for a princess."

"That's how princesses stay clean." She touched his cheek affectionately. "Don't worry, Han. I won't make you do anything nasty. I figure there must be lots of lovely museums and art galleries to visit, and markets to shop at."

He scowled at her and she kissed his cheek.

"Oh, well, |I better see how Luke's coming along with that kaffe," she said lightly and turned to head back to the forward compartment.

"And what," Han asked, "am I supposed to do with _this_?"

Leia threw him a wide, lopsided grin. "Stir the kaffe with it?"


	5. Chapter 5

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **V**

"Leia, why did you ask me to come to Jenolan with you? Had you thought about it?"

"No. I was thinking of something else completely at the time. But as soon as you walked in, a voice told me 'Take Luke to Jenolan with you'."

"Voices in ya head, huh?"

"Ignore him."

"Don't worry, Leia, I understand what you mean. A few days back, while I was meditating, I had this sudden overwhelming urge to come back and see you. I was concerned for you. You seemed...confused. Upset. A little afraid maybe. I didn't know why I had to come back, but it seemed important enough to put my training on hold. I had no idea how I was going to be of help, or even if you needed my help at all. Yet as soon as you asked me, I knew I had to go with you. Does that make sense?"

"No."

"Han."

"Well it doesn't."

"Leia? _Does_ it make sense?"

"It _feels_ right, Luke. I don't know...why, but it does."

"Just _great_."

"I'd watch what you say if you're not planning on losing Round Two, as well."

"It _does_ feel right, but I wanted more of an idea of what might happen. Which is why I've spent the last fifty odd hours in meditation. Sifting through the Force, looking for clues, hints, indications—"

"Wait a minute. You've gone and brought the Force along on this excursion, haven't you?"

"Han, I haven't _brought_ anything along. The Force simply is. It surrounds us, penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together. I can't switch it off at will."

"So what does your Force tell us? What boogie monsters lie in wait for us on Jenolan."

"Han."

"What?

"If nothing else, I think we'll all have an...enlightening time. I sense... closures. New beginnings. Exactly why I'm here is beyond me!"

"Maybe you're just here for a good time. To enjoy yourself. Ever thought that might be it?"

"You could be right, Han. I hadn't thought of that."

"You Skywalkers need to loosen up. Get a more Corellian outlook on life."

"Which is?"

"Live long, party hard and die with a smile on your face to keep the bastards guessing."


	6. Chapter 6

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **VI**

A warm, lazy breeze blew along the beach, barely fluttering the still-damp tresses of Leia's fringe as she stood on the balcony, fingers entwining her hair into a single braid. The green-blue of ocean nestled contentedly in the wide bay, docile waves hesitantly breaking along the gently curving shores. Smudges of offshore islands dotted the horizon, and a long finger of pier stretched tantalisingly out towards them. The variety of hovercraft floating across the bay's smooth surface as they returned from early morning fishing expeditions were a stark contrast to the long-legged lemaci which strolled elegantly along the expanse of beach, tourists perched precariously on their humped backs while the traditionally-dressed guides tugged at their bridles and hurried them along.

Leia smoothed the white slip of a dress down her bare legs and lifted her face to the sunshine, basking in the stunning clarity of the blue sky. It would be another hot day in Emubra and she was looking forward to it. Only halfway through, the vacation had been as near to perfect as she could imagine. She felt relaxed, happy and dizzily in love. The thought of work had barely crossed her mind since they had arrived on Jenolan, though she did reserve the first thirty minutes or so of her day to attend such matters, thankfully, and with Luke's assistance, something Han had not yet discovered.

The rest of her time (and it was amazing how long the days seemed when there was no urgency or demands placed on her) consisted of lazing on the beach with a good bookchip, swimming in the protected bay, eating far too much rich food and making love with Han, almost it seemed whenever the urge took them. Fortunately for his own sake, Luke was an infrequent participant in any of the vacation activities, and he seemed to have developed the discrete habit of vacating his hotel room when he realized what was about to occur in the adjoining room. Leia now really only saw Luke over breakfast in his room each morning, and the three of them shared the occasional nightly meal.

Luke claimed he was conducting research at the various museums and archives in Emubra because he believed the Jedi were somehow connected with Jenolan, though Leia wondered if this was more a convenient excuse to afford her and Han some privacy.

Leia didn't doubt the veracity of Luke's claims. While visiting the Museum of Natural History on their first day in the resort town, Luke had honed in on a crystal in a display case which featured otherwise unremarkable stones and gems. He had pointed out the crystal to Han and Leia, telling them he believed it had once been used as the focusing mechanism in a lightsaber. Leia recalled the yearning which had twinkled in Luke's eyes as he relayed stories about enclaves of Jedi who had spread themselves in remote localities throughout the galaxy in a vain hope of eluding the Imperial decree outlawing them, and the brutality of Vader's troops bent on destroying them. Maybe Jenolan was one such place. Maybe here he would find pieces to the puzzle of the Jedi, and possibly some of the necessary tools required to establish his own Jedi Academy. Maybe this was why he was meant to come.

Han, of course, had rolled his eyes at such a suggestion, yet Leia had felt Luke's absolute need to find any trace which might help to prove the existence of other Jedi, albeit an existence which no longer was. She just hoped he found what he was looking for.

Having spent nearly all of their time together, with seldom interruption from others, Leia had never felt as close to Han as she did now. Each day, it seemed, she discovered a little something extra about him which made her love him more—from the fact he was an accomplished swimmer, to the scar from a childhood accident that was hidden deep on his scalp.

At times while daydreaming on the beach, Leia had conjured up whimsical images of their wedding day, complete with choral music and fifty-piece orchestra. She knew her dreams were just that—childish musings from a woman with nothing better to do. Yet it had been fun to mentally design her wedding gown, select the flowers and check off the guest list.

Deep down she didn't really crave the pomp and ceremony of a traditional Alderaani royal wedding, and she could guarantee Han certainly wouldn't. However she astutely realised that the remaining citizens of her former homeworld would virtually insist upon it. In all honesty, she would've preferred something quiet and informal, sharing the moment with the few close friends they had. What mattered would be the words they would say, their declaration and commitment to each other in front of the people they loved.

Reluctantly, though sensibly she told herself, Leia dispensed any wedding plans as mere folly arising from too much sun and daydreams, and not enough work and reality. Still…it had started her thinking, wondering if there was a limit to Han's preparedness to wait for her. There was no logical reason why she had suddenly considered this question. They had never spoken about such things, and their relationship was as strong and wonderful as it had ever been.

However as much as he pretended not to care, Leia knew she was hurting Han. He wanted to be a part of her life, yet until they were living together—formally or not—she suspected he felt he was being kept at arm's length. Perhaps he even harboured the fear that she didn't think he was good enough for her. She knew he would never admit any apprehension if queried on this point, but he didn't need to; she could see it in his eyes. And last night, it had become painfully obvious.

Leia couldn't quite recall exactly how or when their post-coital conversation had progressed onto Kelithan del Rado and her proposition to Han, but some of the stories he told her about exactly what people paid for broadened her very limited education on the matter. She remembered making some disparaging comment about how cold and clinical it would be to seek out and pay for a lover's service.

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it, sweetheart," Han had told her. "The thrill of the chase can be the same as for any regular courtship."

Leia had been unable to ignore the spark of jealousy ignited by his vague reference to a past he was reluctant to discuss.

"Sounds like a man speaking from experience."

The enigmatic smile he had responded with had only served to increase her curiosity. It did not surprise her when he eventually suggested she try it out on him. What _did_ surprise her was how quickly she had agreed.

They had arranged to meet in a nightclub in the centre of town, away from their own hotel lest they be recognized. Han had departed their room before Leia, dressed in the clothes he knew she liked him to wear. He had given her no rules or advice on how to entice him into spending the night with her, however her apprehension was obvious enough to cause him to softly kiss her cheek before he left. His parting words again caused curiosity and irrational jealousy to spike her heart.

"Don't worry. I'm an easy pick up. I won't make you work too hard."

Despite the early hour, the nightclub was relatively busy when Leia arrived. She slipped her way through the throng of sentients. Not surprisingly, the club's patrons were primarily human and near-human, for throughout the galaxy humans were one of the few species which showed a predilection for baking themselves in solar radiation only metres from cooling water.

It took Leia some time to find Han, though admittedly she was pretending not to be specifically looking for him. Away from the loud music of the live jizz band, the bumping and grinding on the dance floor, and the noisy main bar, he had found a seat at a smaller bar located a level up and outside on a protected balcony. The glassine doors closed behind Leia as she moved out onto the terrace, muffling the music and the sound of the crowd. A few couples who had escaped out here glanced at her then continued their intimate conversations.

Han was the only occupant at the bar, seated at the far end and casually leaning back against the counter top as he gazed blankly around the balcony, pointedly ignoring her attempt to initiate eye contact with him. The fingers of one hand stroked the smooth surface of a glass of ale. Everything about his pose said he was available and interested in offers. Biased, most definitely, but she appreciated his ruggedly handsome features and the strong, slender lines of his body. What woman could resist spending a night with him?

Heart thumping, Leia deliberately took a place at the bar next to him and ordered a dry wine. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn't know what she was doing. She was used to socialising at formal functions with dignitaries, not trawling the depths of a nightclub in search of a man.

 _How do you pick up a man, anyway?_

She sipped at her drink, mentally took a deep breath and turned to him.

"Do you come here often?" she casually asked.

The amusement on Han's face was evident as his head swung around. He slowly considered her, lips twitching with approval as his eyes moved over her. Despite the intimacy they already shared, his brash wantonness caused her to squirm with embarrassment. His gaze finally met hers.

"Is that the best you can do?" he smiled.

Abashed at her fumbling attempt, Leia gulped at her wine. It was with some dismay that she watched him collect his glass and rise from the stool.

"Try again," Han suggested, and moved off to the edge of the terrace.

Annoyed with herself and him, Leia watched as he leaned his elbows against the balcony's balustrade and looked out over the dark ocean. She fought back the initial urge to leave him, and this fantasy of his, in the nightclub and return to their hotel, instead channelling her energy into accepting his challenge. She followed, positioning herself next to him and gazed out across the moonlit sands and waters, aware of his surreptitious glances.

She murmured, "Beautiful night," and turned to watch his profile.

A breeze ruffled the hair across his forehead as he nodded quietly in agreement. He drank from his glass and matched her open stare, inviting her to continue.

"Do you often play hard to get?" she asked mischievously.

His eyes narrowed at her question, brow furrowing and composure cracking as if he had once heard similar words uttered. Leia smiled triumphantly.

"Or are you just a tease?"

Han quickly regained his composure and matched her smile.

"Tease?" he asked guilelessly. "What do you mean?"

The confidence surged through her, bolstering her self-assurance. This wasn't so hard after all. Not that much different from the chat and banter of diplomacy.

"Come on," Leia appealed. "You're an attractive man. You on your own in a club full of people." She noticed how he held onto her every word with increasing fascination. "You're obviously looking for action." She hoped that was a suitable phrase. "Why so coy?"

Han shrugged. "Just particular, 's'all."

Leia's eyebrows arched speculatively. "You might 'particular' yourself out of the market."

The smile across his face gave way to an appreciative chuckle. "Oh, you'd be surprised. I have a good success rate."

"And are you looking at improving that success rate tonight?"

With careful deliberation, Han placed his half-full glass on the balustrade, shifted his stance so he was facing her front on. The hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"Well, that all depends." His voice had dropped to a sensual murmur that reverberated throughout her.

Leia took his bait. "Depends on what?"

"Finding someone who's interested. Someone who knows what she wants. Someone who values my—" he glanced at the ocean for inspiration "—talents. And is willing to show her appreciation."

Part of her nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation, the obvious slant to this conversation, and his choice of words. She ignored those betraying thoughts and instead concentrated on the buzz of adrenalin and the promise of things to come.

"You sound rather confident of your abilities," she told him.

"A career of happy customers," he smiled. "I have written testimonies back in my hotel room, if you're interested."

With a tilt of her head, Leia indicated his glass. "How about I start off buying you a drink. Then we'll see what happens from there."

He nodded slowly in agreement. "A drink's a start."

They spent the rest of the evening in a contest of consenting seduction; conversations weighted with connotation and trailing an underlying suggestive tone; slow, sensual smiles and intimate stares. Yet, like strangers, they did not touch, their close proximity and teasing words heightening the barely contained desire emanating from them. The game attracted the clandestine curiosity of a few patrons, an idea that for once appealed to the incognito princess.

When Han followed her into the cab, their guises continued. He refrained himself to resting his hand on her knee, fingers caressing under the hemline of her dress. Influenced by the moment, her own fantasies and desires, Leia had turned his head towards her and looked straight into his eyes.

"I don't like any complications in my life," she had told him. "My husband is due back tomorrow, so I want you out of my bed by morning."

The unexpected instruction had stopped him cold. She saw something catch in his eyes, and she easily read the veiled play of thought across his face. He wanted the game to stop. Now. For once, _he_ wanted to be the jealous husband, not the illicit and temporary lover.

Leia had immediately responded with an affectionate kiss to his cheek and a whispered "I love you" in his ear. Her endearments seemed to work, for he resumed his role and continued with it for the rest of the night's activities. And, after the incredible pleasure he gave her, she had to admit she probably _would_ have paid him the 850 credits he asked for before he fell asleep.

As wonderful and stimulating as the night had been, Leia could not forget the pain she had seen behind his eyes when the pretence had highlighted his impermanence. She didn't want to hurt him any longer. Was there really any reason for postponing their marriage?

Finishing her hair, Leia focused on a serene figure walking along the edge of the beach, waves lapping at his bare feet and dressed in an outfit reminiscent of a Tatooine moisture farmer. The man returned her wave and headed across the sand towards the hotel. Luke was returning from his early morning walk, which meant it was time for breakfast.

Leia wandered through the gauzy veil of curtains back into the room. Han was still asleep, having only briefly stirred when she had slipped from his sleepy embrace and headed for the refresher. He lay on his stomach, head not quite on the pillow, a tangle of sheets and covers around his bare thighs. The eye turned towards Leia flickered open as she approached. Smiling, Leia smoothed the hair from his forehead and brushed her lips across his cheek.

"Good morning."

He mumbled an unintelligible greeting as she sat down beside him. Instinctively sensing a tightness across his lower back and an accompanying ache, Leia gently ran a hand up his spine. He softly moaned.

"I thought I told you to be out of my bed by morning" she remarked.

Han's eyebrows raised with his torso, then he winced at the discomfort generated by the movement. He gingerly lay down again. "I would if I could."

"Sore back?"

"Must've pulled a muscle."

Leia's hands moved down to his tender muscles, thumbs pushing circles into the constriction. "I wonder how you managed to do that,"

Han made an elaborate face at her. "I wonder."

Eyes closed, he relished the firm caress of her massage, unsuccessfully restraining whimpers of pain and relief.

Beaming fondly, Leia suggested, "Too much of a good thing."

The pillow muffled his response. "Sweetheart, you can _never_ get too much of a good thing."

"Perhaps you're just getting old," she teased.

"Perhaps I am," he agreed with a ragged sigh. "Might not be good for anything else much longer." He turned his head, looked up at her and waggled his eyebrows appealingly. "You might wanna grab me now while you've still got the chance."

Leia chuckled and increased the pressure of her massage. "Sweetheart, you do what you did last night and you'll always have a job with me."

His head dropped despondently into the pillow. "That's a compliment?" he muttered.

Frustrated he had taken exception to her jest, Leia momentarily ceased her ministrations. "Take it any way you like."

"I usually do."

Refusing to allow this to develop into something more, Leia held her tongue and continued the massage in silence. She was practiced at this skill and it did not take long to smooth the tightness out from his lower back. By then her annoyance with him had also subsided. She kissed his shoulder blade and rose from the bed.

"Are you coming over to Luke's room for breakfast?" she asked.

Han tentatively rolled over, experimentally arched his back.

"Yeah. When I wake up." He rubbed at his eyes and sat up. "Give me a few minutes to get myself together." He held out his hand to her in a conciliatory gesture and she took it. "Thanks for the massage."

"Any time."

She squeezed his fingers to show him she wasn't annoyed. He smiled an apology and released her hand.

As she moved towards the door, she asked, "Are you hungry? I'll order you something."

"Anything, except something mushy I have to eat with a spoon."

"No problem." At the threshold she stopped to collect something from a nearby console table. "Here. Catch."

He reflexively snatched at the object that sailed across the room towards him, held it up to his eyes and blinked slowly. It was a five-credit piece.

"A tip," Leia explained with a giggle as she slipped out the door. "For last night."

Han rubbed a hand through his hair. "Five credits?" he said to himself. "I'm worth more than that."

Luke met Leia at his door with a kiss to her cheek and a look that asked where Han was.

"He just woke up," she responded to the unasked question. "He'll be along shortly. So, if you don't mind, I log on and check my mail."

Luke indicated the comms terminal with a sweeping gesture. "Fine. Help yourself."

He poured a cup of kaffe for himself and Leia while she busied herself with a range of correspondence and reports she had arranged to be forwarded to her to keep her in the loop and on top of things.

Although she knew this was basically in violation of the bet she had made with Han, she did not regret her actions nor feel guilty. This was all she needed—just a few minutes each day to check what was happening back on Coruscant. Once her daily update was concluded, and she had responded with messages and instructions to her executive assistant, Leia turned her mind completely (or as near to that as she could muster) to enjoying her vacation. _Yes,_ she decided, _this is definitely the only way to cope with work on vacation._ She would never be able to convince Han this was the way to operate. But then again, what Han didn't know wouldn't harm him.

Blowing on the steaming kaffe to cool it down, Leia skimmed through the New Republic Intelligence Centre military intelligence report, head slowly shaking in amazement at the resistance that even now some Imperial commanders where showing to NR forces. Obviously they would never learn.

She stopped briefly when Luke asked for her breakfast order, then moved onto the political and economic reports issued by the Alderaani Embassy, and a summary of correspondence awaiting her return. She noted, with some relief, the meetings and visitors she had missed, the receptions she had declined her attendance, and the general running of the Embassy. Everything seemed in order, until she came to the end of the reports and summaries. She clucked her tongue in annoyance at the quick note her EA had added. Enash Mordy, the councillor from Sita Creti VII, had requested that Leia contact him at her earliest convenience to discuss serious complications arising from the recent Inner Core Trade and Finance Conference. The note was marked 'URGENT and CONFIDENTIAL'.

Leia closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the note had failed to vanish. She sat there for a moment, fingers drumming on the terminal interface board, chewing on her bottom lip. There was no way around this. Eni knew she was on vacation. He wouldn't interrupt her with some trivial matter. And if it was that important, then she really needed to attend to it now; it wasn't something that could wait until she returned. Besides which, now her attention had been drawn to the fact that 'serious complications' existed, she wouldn't be able to relax until she knew exactly what they were and measures were in place to effectively deal with them. She hoped this was something that could be resolved by a quick holonet transmission to Eni and maybe a written report. Then she could return to enjoying her holiday with Han.

 _Han…_

Leia pressed her forehead into palms. Han would not be impressed. More likely, he would be downright furious. Yet another complication she would have to deal with.

"Everything all right, Leia?" Luke suddenly asked.

Head still in her hands, Leia cricked her neck to look across at her brother. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on low-cut hiking boots. Looks like he had some serious walking planned for the day.

Leia sat upright, tilted her head back and rubbed her neck.

"Problems back on Coruscant," she explained with a sigh. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to make a few calls." She swivelled the chair to face him. "Han is not going to very happy."

Luke grinned and stamped his foot into the boot.

"You know, Leia," he said, "I think you worry about work too much."

Her shoulders tensed and the corner of her mouth quirked downwards. She folded her arms across her chest. That didn't sound Luke. In fact, it sounded like a certain Corellian.

"Oh, you do, do you?"

Luke's grin dispersed into a disarming smile. He rose, took his kaffe out onto the balcony and pulled up a seat. Leia followed, curious as to why the serious-minded young Jedi would make such an uncharacteristic comment. Mug in hand, she leaned against the balcony balustrade and stared at the back of his head. He turned towards her with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question before Han arrives?" he asked.

Leia sipped at her kaffe and cocked her head. "Depends what it is."

Luke chuckled genuinely and knowingly.

"Are you happy, Leia?"

Her frown was immediate. _What a strange question._ "The holiday has been wonderful—"

"I'm not talking about 'now', specifically," Luke interrupted. "I mean in general." His shoulders hunched and he held his palms open and gestured around him. "Are you happy with your life?"

Leia hesitated. "Why…"

"You love Han. Right?"

"Of course," she said a touch indignantly. _More than anything._

"So how long are you going to keep him waiting?"

Though quietly spoken, Luke's question seemed demanding. Leia retracted herself up against the balcony, brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Han. Your future together," Luke earnestly explained. "You're going nowhere."

Mouth open and mind whizzing with protests, Leia remained mute.

Luke took advantage of his good fortune. "Are you ever going to get married, make an honest man of him? Raise a few screaming kids?"

That last comment jolted Leia from her silence.

"Oh, I get it," she said sarcastically. "This is a Jedi _thing_ , isn't it? You want to know when I'm going to start increasing the gene pool of Jedi."

Luke smiled weakly. "Well," he conceded, "the thought has crossed my mind."

Leia's face soured and she turned from him, prepared to block him out.

"But in all honesty," Luke quickly added, "it's got nothing to do with Jedi. This is about you and your happiness."

"It is, is it?"

"Don't get defensive, Leia. I don't mean to intrude. I'm just concerned."

She faced him again, cheeks flushed with ire. "About what? My love life?"

Luke shook his head. "Professionally, you've got your life together. But your personal life…I'm concerned you're drifting. Wandering." She turned from him again, but he continued. "Han's always been there for you, Leia. Throughout everything. He's the one solid thing in your life and I think you're taking advantage of always having him there."

She rounded on him fiercely. "Taking advantage?!"

He unflinchingly held her gaze, determined to finish what he wanted to say. "You need to give him a commitment."

Leia nodded sagely, if sardonically. It was all suddenly clear to her.

"Has he been talking to you about this?" she demanded.

"No, of course not," he told her. "I'm just an interested observer."

"Thank you for your diagnosis, Doctor. Skywalker," she bit out. She turned back towards the ocean and stared across the bay, her gaze focused on nothing except its colour. "For your information, we have already discussed the possibility of getting married."

Luke grimly noted her choice of words. "And?"

The tension in Leia's shoulders noticeably subsided. "I'm waiting for things to settle down. Normalise."

Luke could not refrain a grin. "You're talking about the galaxy and Han here," he smiled. "Neither are known for being normal."

Leia closed her eyes shutting out the view and Luke's words. "This really is none of your concern, Luke."

Luke considered the rigid lines of her pose. At the main door the hailer sounded, indicating breakfast had arrived. Luke casually stretched out with the Force and opened the door to allow the droid waiter access to the room. Leia remained resolutely still, pressed up against the balcony railing.

"Fine," he said. "I'll leave it at that."


	7. Chapter 7

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **VII** The water sluiced off Solo's lean body as he stood in the refresher cubicle, head arched back, catching the soft, thick drops in his mouth. He tilted his hips and tested the flexibility of his lower back. He had always found water refreshers to be more relaxing and invigorating than sonics, and Leia's massage had certainly sorted out the kinks in his muscles.

Han frothed up the quaint block of fragrant soap, so unlike the liquid cleanser he was used to, and rubbed the foam into his skin. A contented sigh escaped from his lips.

 _A man could get used to this life._

He couldn't remember when he had enjoyed a vacation so much. Previous vacations had consisted of either far too much alcohol, too many women or too many law enforcement types. But this one…he couldn't think of one problem that had occurred. Even the minor difficulties had ultimately turned out to his benefit.

As a result of his outburst with Luke enroute to Jenolan, Leia had started off their vacation in the Emubra Museum of Natural History. Amongst the ancient bones and relics, Luke had stumbled across a crystal and claimed it had once formed the internal mechanism of a lightsaber.

 _Yeah. Right._

But Han knew he shouldn't really complain too much. With Luke off on a wild julacka chase looking for Jedi artifacts, he and Leia had been able to spend most of their time on their own. His nature easily lent itself to relaxation and he had quickly fallen into the Emubran lifestyle: sleeping late; cool, casual clothing; long days filled with swimming in the bay; lazing on the beach; and convincing Leia that anytime was the right time for making love. Although everything had been going great, he wasn't winning too much on their wager, for Leia seemed to have avowed by her word and left work behind. But that didn't mean he was missing out on anything. Which was probably why he now had a sore back, he thought with a grin.

Unfortunately on his side of the score, Han hadn't been fairing too well. He'd nearly lost another round the night they had arrived on Jenolan. Leia had discovered the palm gun strapped to his leg and hidden by his boot. They had briefly argued over whether this was technically a breach of the rules.

"We agreed you couldn't bring a blaster," Leia had pointed out.

"You meant the DL-44," Han had appealed, "not this innocent little thing. Besides, it's only for our protection."

He wisely hadn't mentioned the vibroshiv strapped to his other ankle.

Regardless, he had eventually lost Round Two on another technicality, regarding the definition of the phrase 'mouthing off'. He still didn't believe suggesting to one of the stall holders in the market place what he could do with the cheap trinkets he had thrust into their faces was argumentative, more like 'customer feedback'. And he'd been quite within his right to tell the guy eyeing off Leia in her swimsuit to move along. Maybe he didn't have to propose they settle things with a bout of counselling behind the rear of the hotel, but hell, just the look of consternation on the other man's face had been worth the visit to the art gallery Leia had subjected him to as punishment.

Han's stomach rumbled hungrily. _Enough daydreaming,_ Han decided. It was time for food and then some serious lazing about.

He quickly finished the 'fresher, dressed in a dark pair of shorts made from a native fabric and slipped a short-sleeved shirt over his head. He jammed bare feet into soft leather shoes and considered himself in the mirror. His skin had tanned nicely under the Jenolan sun and, combined with the salty ocean waters, had even lightly bleached highlights in his hair. From a distance, he could almost pass for a local.

Han moved into the corridor as the droid waiter rolled out of Luke's room, brushing past it and rapping its silver dome in a friendly gesture as he snuck through the front door before it closed. With the instincts of someone whose life once relied upon paying close attention to detail, Han's eyes quickly scanned the room. Luke and Leia were out on the balcony, along with the breakfast tray, talking in stilted, lowered voices. He took in the well-made bed and generally tidy state of the room with an amused shake of his head; Luke still wasn't used to the hotel sanit droids cleaning up after him.

The aroma of breakfast pulled Han further into the room and towards the balcony. He glanced at the comms terminal as he passed by, and suddenly stopped. The insignia of the New Republic shone in the upper right corner of the monitor. Han immediately diverted to the terminal. The familiar words of diplomacy and politics burned on the screen, sparking a jubilant glee within him. _Ah ha! So what have we here, Your Highness?_

He scrolled through pages, not reading the contents simply returning to the first screen. It was a report all right, and, as he suspected, addressed from the Alderaani Embassy to Leia, and even labelled "EXCLUSIVE: Princess Organa EYES ONLY". The date-time-group and serial numbering of the message suggested the report was part of a sequence of daily updates.

 _Very clever,_ he mused. _But you've met your match, Princess. I think we'll be playing things my way for a while. Thought you could get away with a con like this, hey? Shoulda been a bit more careful_ —

His joy at the discovery was tempered by the sudden realisation this wasn't just a slip up on her part. This wasn't carelessly watching a newsvid program, or a thoughtless mention of a work-related issue. She had _arranged_ this back on Coruscant. Even after she had agreed to leave work behind and give her undivided attention to their vacation and to him, she had gone ahead with ensuring that her work still came with her. And she was hiding it from him. This was premeditated, calculated deception. He felt something turn cold and hard inside him.

Han turned from screen and looked out towards Leia, quietly staring at her until she raised her eyes and noticed him. Her gaze shifted to the comms terminal, then back to his face. Her pallor noticeably whitened and she smiled at him meekly. Luke swung around in the chair, deduced the situation in the blink of an eye and ducked his head down into his shoulders.

Han strode outside onto the balcony and stood with his hands on hips, blocking the doorway. Leia's smile wavered under his glare.

"We need to talk," Leia suggested, hoping he would recognise her wish to move the impending discussion somewhere private.

Nodding thoughtfully, Han calmly agreed, "Yeah. We do."

Leia sighed with anticipated frustration. He was using his 'I'm-being-reasonable voice, a sure sign he was preparing to be anything but that. And he hadn't moved, so he wanted to have this out in front of Luke and probably drag him into it as well.

Luke poured himself another cup of kaffe from the decanter, hunching his shoulders as he tentatively sipped the hot liquid. He sympathetically watched Leia wearily brush the hair from her forehead.

"Something's come up," she said simply.

"Yeah?" Han's tone dripped with feigned surprise. "Really?"

Leia ignored his sarcasm, inclined to give him a bit of latitude now her secret had been discovered and she was about to sour his mood even further.

"There's some urgent business I have to attend to," she explained. "Today. Now."

His silence gave no indication of whether she should continue or even if he was listening. Leia plunged on regardless.

"I was hoping this wouldn't happen, and I know Eni wouldn't contact me unless it was vital and urgent."

Han was motionless, not even flinching at the mention of the Sita Cretian's name.

"Hopefully all I'll need to do is make a few holo calls to sort out a few problems, and then we'll be able to—"

"You've been getting these reports from the Embassy since we arrived," 'Han interrupted. "Haven't you?"

The caged anger was visible in his eyes, dark and hooded. Resenting his self-righteous temper aroused her own indignation.

"Yes," she replied evenly, returning his demanding glare. "I have. They've been too important to ignore."

He shook his head in disbelief, breathed heavily through his nose. "And Luke's been helping you out?" Han didn't bother glaring at the cringing Jedi

Leia disregarded the offer to pull Luke into this mess, as tempting as it was. "I thought it best if you didn't know."

Han's eyebrows raised sceptically. "Best?" His dismissive snort was spiteful. "You've been cheating, Leia."

She took exception to the charge. "No I haven't!"

He pointed a lecturing finger at her. "Don't gimme that. We agreed you weren't even gonna think about work. And you'd led me to believe you were sticking to your end of the deal. I thought you were trying so hard to concentrate on us. But, nah. You've been sneaking over here each morning to read your mail and get up to Kest knows what else."

His finger dropped as he recognised she was matching his anger with level-headed diplomacy; it was pointless talking to her when she got like this. But he wasn't about to let things go without one final hurt. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around bereft.

"You've lied to me. From day one, this whole vacation has been a lie."

The accusation was ridiculous, so far over the top and out of proportion that Leia considered laughing in his face. Instead, she nodded at him in quiet agreement.

"If that's the way you see it, Han."

His eyes returned to hers. "Yeah. That's the way I see it."

Leia fumed. _This is rich. He's so damn hypocritical! As if he wouldn't try to get away with something like this. As if he hasn't already tried it with that bloody palm gun and the vibroshiv I haven't bothered to mention._

"Be reasonable, Han," she told him in her best diplomatic voice. "You know I have responsibilities I just can't throw away at a whim."

He smiled tightly and turned his head to scowl at Luke. The younger man sank further down into his chair. Leia tugged on Han's elbow to get his attention.

"Don't you understand?" she demanded. "This was the only way I _could_ manage to take a vacation. To get away from it all, to relax and unwind." Han tried to shrug off her grip and she let go of his arm. "Maybe I should have told you what I was doing. But I doubt you would have liked it anyway. You want me all for yourself and you know that's just not going to happen."

She regretted the last sentence as soon as she had said it. Han's anger momentarily checked as he considered her words with a frown. She continued before he raged again, hoping to smooth things over.

"Getting these daily reports has really helped me to cope with leaving it all behind. Okay," she relented, "so now something's popped up, but I'm sure I can quickly sort things out." She tried a tentative smile, prepared to be gracious now she had made her point. "Think of it this way. You were right. I can't let go. I'm a workaholic. A control freak. I like to think I'm indispensable." She caught his eye, winked and broadened her smile, appealing to his more basic instincts. "You win, I lose. The winner's pleasure. Whatever you want to do until we leave, it's your call. I just need to sort this out today."

Han looked down at her for long, quiet moments, the muscles in his jaw working, his eyes shards of ice. The length of his silence disturbed her and she briefly considered probing his mind for a response. When he finally spoke, his voice was a soft growl, devoid of emotion.

"No, Leia," he said. "You win, I lose." He indicated the comms terminal inside with a tilt of his head. "You can have it all. I don't wanna play anymore."

Without a further word, he turned from her and left Luke's room. After he had gone, Leia stared at the space he had passed through. It wasn't like Han to walk away from an argument. He liked to have things resolved. Not surprisingly, anger and frustration trailed in his wake, echoes of the emotions he had shown. Yet she sensed more, what he had felt but not revealed—betrayal, abandonment, sadness. _An over-reaction,_ she told herself. He'd get over it; he usually did. That didn't mean he'd forgive her outright. No, she was certain he would make her earn his forgiveness. Right now he was probably heading for the _Falcon_ to take his anger out on some poor unsuspecting piece of equipment in the engine bay. Then she remembered Luke, and Eni's message, and the forgotten breakfast rapidly cooling on the table.

"You know, Luke," she said contritely as she took a seat. "I thought only you and Threepio could make Han that angry."

Luke watched Leia's carefully masked face, gauging which way to level a response.

"It's an art form," Luke told her. He reached out to touch the back of her hand reassuringly. "But don't worry. You're improving."

She favoured him with a withering glare.


	8. Chapter 8

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **VII**

 _How could she? How could she? How_ _ **could**_ _she?_

It was a ridiculous thing to think, but the thought was the only one that would come to Han. It circled his brain, chanting at him, taunting him, encouraging him to take it up as his mantra and stride in time to it. His head felt thick and stuffy with unspent rage, his scalp pulled tight with tension. Hands clenched into fists at his sides as he marched along the beach, oblivious to the looks of consternation from fellow tourists. His instincts had initially set him off towards the bays where the _Millennium Falcon_ was docked, but the idea Leia would expect him to do just that had altered his course.

Han knew he was over-reacting to a minor slight against him. He knew he and Leia had had more heated arguments, argued over larger issues. For some reason, this incident had struck bone. Briefly, he had looked behind the fury and frustration, and found a sense of betrayal and aloneness, disabling emotions that sent him running for the familiarity of his anger.

 _How_ _ **could**_ _she? Bitch!_

This was supposed to be their vacation. Theirs and theirs alone.

 _First Luke, and now this! How gullible was I to actually believe she meant to keep her word! Suckered me in a big way. Played me for a fool all right._

Han had no idea how Leia could _ever_ make this up to him. Consumed with rage, he didn't want to forgive her, didn't want to imagine there would ever be a time when he felt rational enough to even consider forgiving her.

He took the stairs leading up to the pier in quick bounds and found himself walking along the long stretch of jetty, past fisherpeople and tourists.

Gradually, begrudgingly, Han decided to give Leia credit for out-smarting him. After all, hadn't he brought along weapons in contradiction to their agreement, choosing to ignore Leia's intent of their wager? And, what's more, he had gotten away with it.

But Han didn't want to distract himself from his original feelings. It gave him some satisfaction to be self-righteous about this, and that in turn helped fuel his anger.

 _Who would've thought Her Royal Highness would cheat. You could understand it coming from a guy who doesn't know any better, who hasn't had a genteel upbringing. But not from Her High and Mightiness. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from her._ _Bitch!_

Chewing on his anger, Han continued along the pier, his shoes slapping against the synthetic planks, ignoring the people he passed and the fishing craft off-loading their morning catch.

It occurred to him that if Leia lied about something like this, what else was she hiding? But he deleted that thought with all the dignity it deserved. He knew he could trust her. When it came to the important things, she wouldn't lie to him. Not when it really counted. She loved him—he knew that.

The sun was strong and relentless, reflecting off the pier's grey planks and the surface of the water. By the time he reached the end of the pier's two-kilometre length, sweat stuck his shirt to his back and a headache, caused by the heat, his temper and hunger, ached in his temples. He leaned against the barrier and stared down into the waters of the bay, watching the blue waves lap around the pylons. The ocean was tantalising, moving and shifting ten meters below him, beckoning with promises of refreshment and relief. It was tempting to climb over the barrier and dive head long into the bay, except he knew that from this height the impact would cause serious damage. And it was an awful long swim back to shore.

Han was so uncomfortable, hot and sticky, it was some while before he realised his anger had run out of steam. Kest, he couldn't believe he actually felt like being reasonable! That woman was definitely affecting his behaviour.

He stayed there for a while, considering that perhaps the idea of receiving daily reports from the Embassy wasn't such a bad one after all—not that he'd ever let her know he felt that way. No, he decided, as cunning as Leia was, she had lost a legitimate bet and he was certainly going to make her pay for it.

Han made his way back down the pier at a more casual rate, rubbing at his temples and cursing the persistent headache. He tried to think of the best way to handle this situation with Leia, deciding to play it cold and distant until she really apologised. And then his list of demands would come out. He didn't know what those demands would be, but he had a whole day on his own to come up with some.

He started mentally compiling the list at a sidewalk tapcaf while he had the local version of kaffe and a sweet pastry in an attempt to fight off his hunger and the headache. By the end of his third mug of kaffe the headache and hunger were gone, however the list was not very well developed. He had placed 'Marry me' at the top, but crossed that off as being unrealistic. Besides which, he wanted Leia to come with up with that one on her own accord, not marry him because she lost a bet. He soon deleted the other items too, as they were all variations on a sexual theme; he knew they would never make up for the simple fact she had deceived him.

Han paid the waiter and left his unfinished kaffe on the table. Annoyed he had no idea what to do with himself for the rest of the day, he walked aimlessly through the resort town, hands jammed into his pockets. He'd been on his own before, for a long time. Why was it difficult to do it now? Had he really become so dependent on Leia that when left to his own devices he floundered?

Han side-stepped the slow walking tourists and crossed the street without a glance at the on-coming speeder and ground-car traffic. He came to a halt and looked up at the gaudily painted entrance to the market place, the multi-coloured banners waving limply in a warm zephyr, the smells of fresh produce and hot food wafting out from the gateway, and sounds of the stall holders as they cajoled and enticed potential customers. Leia had developed a passion for these markets, so much she insisted on a daily visit. Han usually tagged along, sullenly, invariably with Leia pulling on his hand to urge him along. Too bad she would miss her daily visit today.

 _Miss,_ Han thought, chewing on his bottom lip. _That's my problem. I miss her._

Without a further thought, he entered through the gateway, his senses immediately assaulted by sights, sounds and smells as if seeing the markets for the first time. He found himself visiting the stalls Leia would be interested in: a herbalist; an exotic candle maker; the carpenter crafting hand-turned sculptures; the woman offering sample tastings of her sweet jams and fiery sauces. He even momentarily stopped on the outskirts of a crowd to listen to a wrinkled old Jenolannian play a haunting tune on a long wind instrument before moving on again.

Eventually Han found himself outside the alcove of a jeweller Leia had once visited. She hadn't bought anything, Han remembered, mainly because he had refused to enter, preferring to hover on the front steps and sigh impatiently. Now he entered without hesitation, parting the curtain of crystalex and glassine shapes as he moved into the shop. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the alcove after the bright sunshine outside. Shelves and display racks of jewellery were cramped into the small alcove that measured no more than four by five metres. The six customers who were already in there when he arrived manoeuvred around the store, threading their way between the racks and the burly, thick necked men who looked more like guards than shop assistants, especially with vibroblades sheathed on their belts. Indeed, they seemed more intent on watching the customers for signs of theft rather than offering assistance. _Tough neighbourhood,_ Han surmised.

Han joined the informal path, starting at the display cases lining the walls until he was sucked into the whirlpool of customers, his eyes skimming over the cheap pieces of jewellery as he circled the store. He saw nothing which impressed him or caught his eye; the necklace chains were poorly constructed from a thinly pressed metal or thick and chunky, the brooches tawdry and the rings too large for Leia's delicate fingers.

Han was just about to give up and leave when he noticed a delicately-crafted bracelet. He removed the bracelet from the rack to look at it more closely. The silver-coloured metal had been shaped into links and the links formed into a chain that closed in a tiny catch. Simple, elegant and faintly rustic—something to remind Leia of their vacation.

Han glanced at the other customers before slipping the piece back onto the rack, hoping none would notice that particular bracelet and wondered if there might be some other find he had missed. He back-tracked and scanned the other display cases more slowly this time, mouth twisting in contemplation. Even searching with a comparison in mind, he couldn't see anything Leia would like. Deciding he was right the first time, he turned around to locate the bracelet and bumped straight into the unsmiling face of one of the assistants. With rough hands, the larger man steadied Han in a vaguely intimidating gesture. Han pushed the other's hands aside and reflexively backed away as if a blaster weighted his side, the fingers of his right hand stretching and flexing. The Jenolannian warily noticed the gunman's pose Han struck and rested a hand on his belt next to the sheathed vibroblade.

"Can I help you, sir?" the Jenolannian asked in heavily accented Basic, his eyes searching Han for signs of a weapon.

Han's eyes narrowed. The other guards had encircled him and one blocked the only exit. A few of the store's patrons surreptitiously slipped behind the guard and out of the alcove before an altercation occurred. The other customers seemed oblivious to the exchange or chose to ignore it.

Smiling his most charming smile, Han slowly opened his hands to the guard who addressed him. _A minor misunderstanding,_ he considered, forcing himself not to over-react. _These guys are just a little bit jumpy._

"Uh, yeah," Han said, scratching the scar across his chin guilelessly. "I'm interested in buying something for my, my—" _Princess…sweetheart…lover…_ "—my wife." _Wife. Yeah. That sounds kinda good._

The guard folded his arms across the expanse of his chest and cocked his head to one side. "Wife, huh?" He grinned through stained teeth. "You sure 'buy' is right word you want to use?"

Han swallowed away the bad feeling he suddenly had about this. He adopted a more confident stance and hitched his hands on his hips.

"I'm not lookin' for trouble here, bud," he said, pushing aside the traitorous thought that it would be a first for him. "If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

Han had barely moved a foot towards the door when one of the guards to his rear pulled his arms up behind his back. He lashed out instinctively, struggling against the strong hold and kicking his foot behind, only ceasing when another guard with a skewed and ugly nose grabbed a handful of his hair and held a vibroblade against his throat.

"I'm not gonna have anything nice to say to the consumer advocate about you guys," Han growled through clenched teeth, glancing at the shimmering blade out the corner of his eye.

The first guard chuckled as he approached Han. Han steeled himself against the indignity of being frisked for a weapon, grateful for the first time there was no place for him to conceal one. He felt his wallet being removed from against the skin on his waist, saw it slapped down on the counter, then a hand dug into one of his pockets. The guard held up the silvery bracelet in front of Han's eyes, dangling it between two thick fingers as if it was alive.

"You wish to reconsider what you mean as 'buy'?" the man asked, his breath rancid across Han's face.

Han's initial consternation fell into a sneer. So that was how these guys played it. This was a set up.

"You know I didn't take that," Han protested, as futile as it was.

"No? Then why is it on your person?"

"'Cause you put it there. Ow!" The grip on his hair tightened.

Han didn't think these Jenolannians were about to hand him over to the local constabulary. He suspected they would more likely rough him up and demand credits to keep this hidden. He was considering the best way to take them all on at once when a voice unexpectedly called his name.

"Han! Darling! There you are. What in the stars is going on?"

Han's eyes bulged as the woman speaking to him sidled into view. The guards looked at the tall woman moving purposely towards Han, glanced at each other questioningly, then back at the woman. The guard holding his arms loosened his grip and the other with the twisted nose let go of his hair and guiltily flicked off the vibroblade.

Kelithan del Rado laced her arm through Han's as the guard let go of him and shuffled away. She kissed his cheek, flashed him a quick wink. Dumbfounded, he stared at her open- mouthed until she lifted two fingers beneath his chin and gently closed it for him.

"What have you been doing which has so upset these lovely gentlemen?" Kel asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

The woman's pretty smile elicited bashful grins from the guards, and ever increasing amazement from Han. Still hanging onto him, she turned her attention to the instigator of Han's arrest.

"I hope you'll forgive my husband," she said in lilting tones. "I'm certain he didn't mean to be any trouble. Is there anything I can do to smooth things over?"

The main guard frowned, as if this wasn't quite what he had expected. He held out the bracelet towards Kel.

"We caught him with this," the man growled.

To the guard's surprise, Kel immediately scooped up the bracelet, draped it over her wrist and beamed gratefully at Han.

"Oh, darling, it's beautiful!" She kissed his cheek again to mask his frown. "How sweet of you." She deliberately kept her arm out of the guard's reach. "But you didn't have to steal it. You know I would've given you the credits for it."

Han ground his teeth together. He could handle the pretence, the ruse to save his ass, but he didn't appreciate the allegation.

"I _wasn't_ stealing it," he told her stiffly. "These thugs—"

"Now, now," Kel haughtily interrupted, "I'm sure there's just been a slight misunderstanding. I'm certain I can sort things out." The look in her eye coldly suggested that Han keep his mouth shut.

She dug into the pouch hanging from her shoulder, deposited a sizable quantity of high denomination credits on the display counter and collected Han's wallet. It was now the guard's turn to be open-mouthed. The bracelet was obviously worth a fraction of the amount Kel had offered.

"I hope that will cover your expenses, gentles," she intoned.

The main guard dove on the credits, almost salivating. The other Jenolannians followed their leader and were soundly reprimanded with a clip behind the ears for their impatience.

Kel quickly pulled Han from the jeweller's alcove before more could be demanded or threatened. Out in the sun, she continued to drag Han through the market place while he looked back towards the jeweller's and wondered what the hell had happened. He came to his senses a comfortable distance away from the store and shook Kel off his arm. He scowled at her bemused smirk.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Han asked. "And what the fuck are you doin' here?"

Her gaze moved over him from head to toe and back again, a finger thoughtfully tapping against her cheek. He tried not to squirm under her scrutiny.

"Nice legs, Solo," she finally said.

Han snatched her wrist in his hand, not concerned by the strength of his grip, and pulled her face close to his. The smirk remained on del Rado's face.

"What's goin' on?" he coldly demanded.

Her chuckle was disarming and honest, and although he released her hand, she did not move away from him.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice, Han," Kel lightly scolded.

Her dark eyes held his for a moment, sparkling with good humour and encouraging him to share the joke. He grimaced and shook his head.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"You're welcome." Kel handed him his wallet. "And I believe this is yours, too." She took his hand and pressed the bracelet into his palm. "I'm sure Her Highness will simply adore it."

Han stared at her warily, gauging the level of sarcasm, then looked at the piece of jewellery that had caused him so much trouble. He rubbed the links between his fingers and slipped it into his wallet. Del Rado watched with interest as he tucked the wallet inside the waistband of his shorts.

"How much do I owe you?" Han asked, returning his gaze to hers.

She grinned cheekily, her nose turning up with delight.

"For the bracelet, nothing. For the rescue, a cup of kaffe should do nicely."

Han didn't doubt she did not want recompense for the bracelet; she would not miss the credits in the least. But he had to admit, a kaffe certainly sounded wonderful at the moment. He nodded in agreement. Perhaps he'd also find out why Kelithan del Rado had magically appeared from out of nowhere to save him.

They left the markets in silence, Han leading her to the tapcaf where he'd had breakfast. As they walked along, he stole occasional glances at her, successively annoyed to find her openly studying him.

They sat at an outside table and placed their orders with the waiter, a straight black kaffe for him and a creamier version for her. Han sat back in his chair and considered Kel for a moment, absently rubbing his thumb along the edge of his forefinger. Resting her elbows on the table, Kel templed her fingers under her chin and returned the inspection.

"So what are you doing here?" Han finally asked. "Apart from conveniently saving my ass."

"Ooh," Kel sighed mockingly. "Nice imagery."

He grimaced, sighed, knowing he really had to set the record straight.

"Look," he told her, "that stuff the other night..."

Kel's eyebrows raised in interest, encouraging him to continue.

"I lied. I ain't collecting a wage from the Princess. She's my…" He shrugged. "We're a couple. We got a…a… relationship going."

Kel smiled and nodded. "I know."

Han sat back further in his seat. "You know?"

"When you didn't try to contact me," Kel explained, "I did some more asking around and other bits of research. I eventually found out the truth." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Though there are a lot of people out there thinking very unkind thoughts about this 'relationship' you have with Princess Leia."

Han grinned lopsidedly. "You don't have to tell me that."

Kel smiled, pleased he seemed to be relaxing. "So why did you lie to me?"

His grin withered to a wince. "I didn't lie exactly. I just went along with your suggestion."

"Up until a point, anyway."

He returned her smile. "Yeah. To a point."

The conversation ceased while the waiter set down their drinks. Han watched her sip from the cup, waiting until she had swallowed a mouthful. He noticed she wasn't wearing any make-up, and the freckles on her nose made her seem younger. The ice-white dress she wore was short, cool and nicely showed off her long, tanned legs.

"So what are you doin' here?" Han asked, pressing his fingers against the warmth of the mug.

"I'm on vacation," Kel replied.

Han smiled tightly and raised the mug to his lips. "What a coincidence."

She half-shrugged and matched his smile. "I won't lie. At first, I was out for your blood when you didn't contact me. You had seemed eager that night so I couldn't understand your subsequent reluctance."

He burnt his tongue on the steaming liquid and quickly set the mug down again. Kel didn't seem to notice.

"Then, when I found out you were actually in a relationship with the Princess, I just wanted to castrate you instead."

"Nice," Han mumbled.

Kel thoughtfully stirred her kaffe with a spoon.

"Lucky for you I'm fairly reasonable," she continued. "I had decided to write you off as a bad experience. Then I heard you were vacationing here and I thought, what a good idea. I need a holiday."

"You 'heard' that?" Han asked sceptically. "That's classified information. Nobody's supposed to know where Leia is, except for those on her staff."

Kel licked the froth from the back of the spoon and winked at him. "I have my sources."

Han tried his kaffe again, this time with more success.

"Anyway, I decided to see what Emubra was like on the off-chance I might bump into you and we could reminisce about old times." Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Everything after that is a coincidence."

"Lucky for me I believe in coincidences," Han told her. "Thanks again."

"No problem." She smiled at him over the rim of her cup. "Here's to coincidences and rescues. May the two always meet."

"I won't argue with that."

He leaned back in the chair and crossed a leg over his knee. Aware she was flirting with him, he returned her seductive smile. _There are worse things to do than have a kaffe with a beautiful woman in the morning sunshine,_ he told himself. _At least we now know where we both stand._

"You're on your own?" Kel asked.

"Yeah," Han drawled. "The princess finally let me off her leash."

Kel dipped her face, colour staining her cheeks in an attractive blush. "I really said that, didn't I?"

He nodded once. "You sure did."

"Not much of a pick-up line."

Recalling Leia's effort the previous night, Han chuckled to himself.

"Believe me," he told her, "I've heard worse."

Han wondered if Kel really had come all this way just for a holiday or because she wanted to see him again. He smiled faintly at the thought, flattered, if that was the case, that she was attracted to him to that extent.

"I hope you don't mind that I've effectively followed you here," she explained.

He grinned. "I've never been stalked before."

Kel glowered at him slightly. "It's not like that at all." She circled the spoon in the kaffe again. "I just didn't have anything better to do, and, well…" She sighed, a touch embarrassed. "You were on my mind and I thought it couldn't hurt to see for myself how serious you and the Princess are. Then, once I knew, I could get on with things again." She met his gaze, her open stare demanding nothing less than the truth from him.

Han never liked discussing his private life with anyone, let alone strangers, however in this instance it seemed best to get things out in the open.

"Look, Kel," he said, leaning forward, "Leia and I have known each other for about six years now." His hands opened in a conceding gesture. "Most of that time we've usually spent at each other's throats, but that's mainly 'cause we see things from different viewpoints and we were raised differently." _Which is why we had that argument this morning,_ he thought. "A Corellian and an Alderaani ain't a match made in heaven, I can tell you."

Han stopped for a moment and wondered where Leia was at that particular point in time, wondered if she was missing him as much as he was missing her. He wished she hadn't made him get so angry with her.

"But, yeah, we got something between us and one day, maybe, we'll do something formal about it." _If she'll make up her mind,_ he added to himself _._

Kel's mouth was a thin line, and she nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you for being so honest with me," she said.

"Might've helped if I'd've been honest from the start."

She lifted a shoulder casually. "It didn't hurt for me to try." Her smile beamed to show him she wasn't offended. "Besides, my crew had been dying to take out the _Fiscal Warrior_ for a long haul flight and this was the perfect opportunity. You certainly like to vacation in the middle of nowhere, Solo."

Despite himself, Han's interest was piqued. "New ship?"

Kel screwed up her face dismissively. "It's a second-hand YT-2400. Almost as good as new. Only flown once a month by a little old Bothan, or so the salesman told me. For all I know some smuggler was probably threading the Kessell Run on a daily basis in it."

"Her," Han suddenly interrupted.

Kel arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Her," he explained. "A ship is a 'her', not an 'it'."

"You spacers are weird." Kel shook her head. "All I know is it— _she's_ — a fast ship with clean lines. Why are you so interested?"

"I fly one of the older YTs," he explained. "A 1300. You can't go wrong if you choose Corellian."

She pretended to ignore his remark until he winked, then she chuckled with him.

" _She_ looks good and _she_ flies well. What more can a girl want?" Kel said.

"Not a crew to fly it for you," Han advised. "If she's that good, and the 2400s usually are, you should be handling her yourself." He couldn't help a prurient leer. "You look like you could handle just about anything."

The bow of her lips curved slowly into a smile. "But you'll never know, Han."

He nodded in agreement, matched her smile. "My loss."

"Your loss."

Han drank from the mug, considering her choice of transport and trying to get the conversation back to a safer level, if a little belatedly.

"Why a CEC freighter?" he asked. "Why not one of the latest Ubrikkian or SoroSuub yachts? As good as she is, the 2400 ain't much more than a stock cargo hauler. And I just can't picture you as the type who'd settle for a freighter."

Kel's smile contained a faintly condescending trace.

"Above all, Han, I'm an entrepreneur and as such I'm interested in minimising my taxable income. Because of my business interests, anything labelled a freighter is an authorised business expense. So that's what I 'settle' for."

 _Hmm,_ Han considered. _Good point. I wonder if that would've worked back when I was smuggling? Suppose it might've helped if I paid tax in the first place._

"Besides," she continued, "the _Warrior_ is hardly a 'stock' anything. The hyperdrive has been upgraded to Class 1.75 and I've just replaced the crotchety sublight drive with an H-K. Plus _she_ has the luxuries of any space yacht and all the comforts of home."

Han's grin broadened with admiration.

"So you know the jargon and appreciate her qualities," he said. "Why ain't you flyin' her on your own?"

"Why have a Rim Heeler and bark yourself?" Kel countered.

Han frowned, unfamiliar with the colloquial expression yet able to guess its meaning. Despite this, she felt compelled to explain herself.

"I've got a few pilots on staff so why bother flying myself."

His eyes widened, eyebrows raised, prepared to explain how it felt to become a part of a ship when you flew her, but instead he covered a hand across his mouth and chin and dropped a shoulder dismissively.

"Why bother," he agreed.

Her eyes narrowed dubiously.

"Why are spacers so disdainful of those who don't share their passion for flying?" she asked rhetorically, directing her question to no-one in particular.

"Oh don't worry about us simple pilots," Han suggested with a devilish grin, for some reason hoping to win back her approval. "We've just got one track minds."

Her smile was dour as she considered him coolly, and he wished he either hadn't slipped in the suggestive comment or she had been more receptive. When she rose from her seat, he unconsciously followed.

"Thank you for the kaffe," Kel told him, adjusting the pouch across her shoulder. "But I'm afraid I've got other business to attend to."

"Hey," Han protested. "Have I said something to offend you?"

She cocked her head and looked at him, a melancholy colouring her face.

"I'm wasting my time here," Kel told him. "Aren't I?"

He hesitated, a pained expression contorting his features while he grappled for something to say. "Well…"

She smiled stiffly.

"Don't apologise, Solo. I hope you and the Princess have a lovely life together." She pushed the fringe from her face. "And just remember, if you're going to shoplift, your technique needs improvement."

Han watched her as she moved off down the street, admiring the view and wondering if there might have been some way he could've continued the conversation without suggesting he was interested in anything more than friendship and wishing she had been prepared to accept only that much from him. He swirled the cold remains of the kaffe in the mug. _Women._

Depositing a few credits on the table, Han turned to leave, scratching his head as he considered where to next. It looked like it was shaping up to be a long day. It was with a tinge of guilt that he set off down the sidewalk in the direction Kel del Rado had gone.

Han barely glanced at the permacite buildings, the tourists and the local citizens as he wandered along the street. The hustle of the resort town buzzed around him, yet he was more concerned with what to do with himself next and still unsuccessfully trying to compile his list of demands to present to Leia.

It was a smuggler's vigilance that caused Solo to glance down an alley way he passed. He came to an abrupt halt, senses heightened by the sudden rush of adrenalin. In the shadows at the rear of the alley, a hulk of a man had bailed up a smaller human against the wall of a building, one thick fist firmly clutching a shoulder or throat while the other clamped on a wrist. Even from the rear, Han recognised the attacker as one of the guards from the jeweller's store. On impulse he entered the alley, seizing an opportunity to exact revenge while also assisting the guard's victim.

Han's light tread had carried him halfway down the alley before the guard dropped a shoulder to snatch something from his belt, his victim still struggling in his grasp. Han saw a flash of white material, heard the insistent hum of a vibroblade and glimpsed a look of cold horror as the victim's face came into view. _Kel!_

Han briefly paused to scan the alley for possible escape routes or weapons. The walls of buildings bordered on three sides, and the occasional door entered onto the alley but they all appeared firmly closed. A few empty garbage disposal containers sat in neat rows on either side of the lane way. And that was all.

He could hear the guard talking to Kel now, snarling at her in guttural Basic as he waved the vibroblade around, thick fingers firmly latched around her throat.

"You stop our fun, before. Not nice."

Her mouth opened but she didn't reply, whether because the guard's hold on her throat constricted her voice or because her wide eyes were intently watching the path the vibroblade carved.

"You tourists all same. Think you can fool us. Think we just bunch of simple natives."

The drone of the vibroblade filled the air. Han knew he would get only one chance to disarm the massive Jenolannian. He hoped it was all he needed. And he hoped Kel had enough sense to duck when the time came.

The guard laughed cruelly. "Where husband now, pretty lady?"

The blow of Solo's foot against the guard's wrist was more unexpected than forceful, but it was enough to dislodge the vibroblade from his hand. The weapon tumbled to the ground, the automatic cut-off deactivating the vibrating blade. The guard turned towards Han with a dumbfounded look on his ugly face, his hold on Kel loosening enough for her to slip from his grasp and retreat to the corner of the alley.

 _Good girl,_ Han thought before turning to confront the Jenolannian with the skewed nose, the one who had held the blade to his own throat in the store.

Han smiled darkly. "I'm right here, pal."

The guard's countenance shifted from confusion to one of pure hatred. His gaze moved to the fallen vibroblade and Han deftly kicked it away with a swipe of his foot. The guard's features contorted further into a rage of flesh and muscle.

Han flashed his lopsided grin and advised, "Don't blow a gasket."

A bestial scream howled from the guard as he lunged wildly at Han, the huge meat hook fists clutching at vacant space as the Corellian jumped backward with a pilot's agility. He side-stepped another mistimed charge and successfully aimed a pointed elbow into the guard's eye. The guard grunted and instinctively lashed out an arm, collecting Han a glancing blow across the side of his face. Tasting blood in the corner of his mouth, Han quickly backed off. He ducked a swinging arm and landed two quick punches on the guard's twisted nose, eliciting a deadly snarl of pain and revenge.

Han retreated again, trying to assess the best way out of this situation. He knew he could continue this game of evade and attack for quite some time, however he suspected it would take nothing short of a blaster bolt to fell the gargantuan.

Kel's voice suddenly rang out. "Hold it right there!"

Han glanced to see her moving out of the corner, a sporting blaster resting comfortably in her hand and pointed directly at the guard. He guessed she had removed it from her shoulder pouch. _Cautious lady,_ he considered gratefully.

Unfortunately the guard was too incensed with hatred to pay either Kel or the weapon much attention. Taking advantage of the Corellian's momentary distraction, he lurched forward, throwing a fist into Han's stomach. Han leapt backward, reducing the impact of the blow but stumbling under the onslaught. Han fell to his back as the guard landed on top of him. Although with the breath knocked from his lungs, he had enough sense to wrench his head to the side as another fist dived at his head. Points of light filled his vision as the blow scraped off his temple, but he rammed his knee up into the guard's groin with as much viciousness as he could muster. Then there was a burst of blue light and the hulk of a man slumped heavily onto Han, a dead weight. He numbly realised Kel had stunned the guard.

Han lay still for a moment, his head swirling and buzzing, sucking in the air as he settled himself. Slowly, he rolled the Jenolannian off his chest and climbed to his feet, swaying from the impact to his head and wash from the stun shot. He squinted at the woman walking casually towards him, his eyes struggling to focus on her as she tucked away the pistol inside her bag.

"Why couldn't you have done that sooner?" Han asked accusingly.

Kel placed her hands on her hips and stared at him critically, the smirk on her face betraying her thoughts.

"You have a real problem with saying thank you, don't you, Han?"

"Who saved who, sister?"

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, stumbling slightly with the effort. A wave of nausea washed over him and he suspected he had a slight concussion. Kel took his arm to steady him, placed a cool hand on his cheek and stared into his eyes.

"Look at me," she told him.

He obliged, gradually focusing on her pupils, then the three fingers she held up to him.

"How many?" she asked.

"How many what?" he replied.

She slapped him gently on the cheek. "You'll live."

"A pure heart and clean living triumph again."

Kel smiled at his jest until his legs wobbled again and she stretched an arm around his back to keep him upright. As she wiped the blood from his cut mouth, his heart rate increased and a disquiet settled in his stomach.

"How about we clean you up a bit before sending you back to the Princess," Kel suggested.

"I'm fine." Han closed his eyes, tried to push away the feeling in his stomach and rubbed at the ache in his temple. "Been worse than this."

"I don't doubt that," she agreed. She glanced at the guard who lay slumped on the ground. "I think we should leave before Ugly here wakes up with a thumping headache. The least I owe you is a cup of kaffe for your daring rescue. Besides, I think you may need a hand to make a graceful exit."

Solo found it difficult to argue with her, especially when she had to help him back down the alley way and out into the street, her arm wrapped firmly around his waist. Even with her help he couldn't walk in a straight line. He closed his eyes and concentrated on moving his legs in some semblance of a walk, ignoring the touch of her pressed up against him.

"Not far to go," she reassured him. "I've got a speeder parked close by."

Kel led him to a multi-level parking bay and ushered him into the turbolift. He leaned against the wall of the car as she released him, grateful for the space between them.

"Okay, so how come you appeared out of nowhere to save _my_ ass?" Kel asked as she punched for her level.

Han rested his head against the cool surface of the wall and said nothing.

"You weren't following me, were you? Stalking me?"

Han swallowed the bile from his throat. "Just heading in the same direction," he replied. "A coincidence."

Kel eyed him sceptically. "Lucky for me I believe in coincidences."

He momentarily met her gaze, then allowed his lids to fall shut again.

"Hey, you aren't about to pass out on me?" The concern in her voice opened his eyes again. "Or throw up? Don't know which would be worse. Either way, I might just have to leave you here." She threw him a mischievous smile.

"Anyone ever tell you your bedside manner needs work?"

The lift came to a jarring halt and she slipped her arm around his waist again. He barely noticed a strangely comforting warmth spreading throughout him had replaced the feeling in his stomach.

"Only you, Han. Only you."

She guided him along the row of speeders and ground cars to a gleaming red Harford MG-7 and opened the door for him.

"I'll give you this, Kel," Han admitted, cocking his head in admiration. "You've got great taste in speeders.

As groggy as he was, Solo couldn't resist running his fingers along the highly polished surface of the front cowling before settling into the luxuriously soft leather upholstery of the passenger seat. Kel climbed into the driver's seat and grinned at him.

"I don't know about my tastes," she said, "but I know what I like."

Kel activated the repulsorlift generator and the speeder hummed into life. She retracted the duraplex canopy, opening the cockpit to the air, and gunned the turbine engines. Ordinarily the sound would have been music to his ears, however the roar gnawed at the ache in his temple, causing him to grimace and hold his head gingerly. Kel noticed and eased back the revs.

"Don't worry, Han," Kel promised with a pat to the back of his hand. "I'll be gentle with you."


	9. Chapter 9

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **IX**

"Somehow I get the feeling you were more than just a spacer in your previous life," Kel said once they were safely within the confines of her ship, the _Fiscal Warrior_.

She dabbed at the abrasion on Han's temple with an antiseptic pad, clucking her tongue at his grumbling protest.

"You certainly looked at home back there. I suspect you've got more than a nodding acquaintance with trouble."

His face screwed up and pulling away from her gentle touch, Solo replied, "I thought you'd done research."

"I didn't delve too deep," Kel replied. "I'm a fairly shallow person, you see. You can ask anyone."

The self-deprecating remark caught Han's attention and he remained still while she applied a light covering of synthflesh to the graze. He watched the determined set of her jaw and the dark, studious eyes as she concluded the treatment, averting his eyes when she caught him staring. She smiled at him, perhaps a bit sadly, and stood up. She brushed the antiseptic pad across the cut on the corner of his mouth, then turned away from him and commenced packing up the medkit. Groggy, Han relaxed back in his seat and tried to check his shirt for blood stains, but found himself watching Kel instead.

With her back towards him, she asked, "How's the head?"

He shrugged, wishing she would look at him again. "Sore."

"Here." She held out her palm towards him without turning. "These should help. I'll get you a drink."

Kel moved off into the galley, leaving Han alone in the freighter's forward compartment. Han slowly swivelled around his conform chair to get a better look. Kel had already explained to him that the ship's crew were off taking in the sights of Emubra.

Han had been in a YT-2400 before, so he knew the basic layout. Although a pair of starboard bracing arms connected the cockpit compartment to the rounded fuselage, the 2400 was pretty much an updated version of the 1300. Unlike his own ship however, Kel had modified the cargo holds into luxurious living areas. Adjoining the entry ramp and passage way to the cockpit, the forward compartment had been converted into the main living area, complete with conform chairs and lounges, holovid monitors and holo-game tables. Han had also noticed when he'd come onboard that the _Warrior_ was only equipped with a single dorsal laser cannon, most likely used as a deterrent for pirate ships fast enough to keep up with a YT-2400.

 _This ain't a ship,_ he thought disdainfully. _It's a cruise liner._

He carefully covered his sneer when Kel wandered back in from the galley. Before handing him a beaker of water, she checked her movements and regarded him curiously, as if reading his mind.

"What's that look for?" she asked.

"What look?" he replied innocently. He took the beaker and swallowed the capsules along with some water. "Aaah," he lied. "Feels better already."

She repressed a smirking laugh and seated herself in a conform chair next to his.

"So…?" she began.

He placed the beaker on a side table. "'So' what?"

"Your background?" She leaned forward. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Like what?"

Kel crossed her arms across her chest. "And when you're not playing hard to get, you like to play dumb, right?"

"You're just full of compliments, aren't you?"

Despite the thudding in his brain, her smile coaxed a lopsided grin onto his face.

Leaning back into her seat, she tapped a finger thoughtfully against her cheek. "Hmmm…let's see. I should be able to work this out for myself."

Han took another swig from his water, intrigued at her attempt to find out more about his background. Leia, on the other hand, had met his reticence to discuss his past with sympathetic understanding. But then again, Leia already knew he was a smuggler when they first met.

"You're a general now," Kel proposed, "so I'm assuming the New Republic have either recognised your service with the Rebellion or you have some military training in your history. Or both."

Han screwed up his face, a non-committal response and a reaction to the headache.

"Okay, you don't want me to touch that, so I'd say I'm pretty close."

Han responded tetchily, "Say anything you like."

Her smile became enigmatic. "Grumpy, too. No wonder you've got the reputation you have."

That aroused his interest. "What reputation?" He wondered exactly what her 'research' had uncovered.

Kel ignored his question. "You're Corellian and previously a spacer. I can't see you working for anyone except yourself, so that would make you a free trader." She arched an eyebrow. "A mercenary, perhaps? Did you sell your services to the highest bidder? Oh, but you're already spoken for, aren't you. You've got that relationship-thing going with the Princess." She winked to show him she meant no harm by the jest. "Or maybe…hmmm…an independent Corellian spacer..." She looked him straight in the eye. "You wouldn't have dabbled in smuggling by any chance?"

Han gave her his best sabacc face. His lack of response only seemed to satisfy her, which in turn annoyed him further.

She nodded to herself. "Yes, I can see you as a smuggler. That makes a few things clear, and also muddies the water on a few other issues. And if you were a smuggler, that would certainly explain all those rather unkind things I heard—"

"Look," Han interrupted, "if you've finished playing games, I'll say my thanks and be off."

He rose from his seat just a little too quickly and the deck lurched from under his feet. Kel was by his side holding him upright before he could fall and she helped ease him back into the conform chair. He clutched a hand to his head and closed his eyes, but the room continued to spin. He savoured the cool touch as Kel removed his hand from his forehead, replacing it with her own.

"You know, you're an impulsive idiot, Solo," she admonished.

He winced as the throb in his head sent out lances of pain to his temples. "So Leia tells me."

Kel pursed her lips and shook her head. "Just sit still for a while, okay, Han. You know who have a slight concussion. I don't want to have to sit on you to make you behave."

"Promises, promises," he mumbled. Another spike of pain contorted his features. "When's that painkiller of yours gonna kick in?"

"Shh." She ran her fingertips across the tightness in his forehead. "Relax."

He struggled for a while with the headache, neck and shoulders tense in response. Then he felt the firm press of Kel's fingers as she smoothed away the tension, small circles of relief massaged into his temples, her fingers trailing through his hair and across his scalp. Reluctantly, he gave in to the soothing caress, his desperation for relief outweighing the twinges of guilt. Despite her efforts, Kel found he had a tendency to lean forward against her hands, and she frequently pushed back on his shoulders to make him relax into the chair. Finally she moved behind him, continuing the massage from behind his seat. She noticed the grimace dissolve from his face and the strain from his body.

"Better?" she asked.

Han made an almost embarrassed _hhmmffph_. It had occurred to him this was the second massage he'd received today.

Kel pushed her fingers along his scalp, savouring the texture of his thick hair and smiling at the faint groans of relief coming from him. But the silence between them was heavy and she felt compelled to fill it. She cleared her throat.

"Well," she said, "seeing as you told me about yourself, the least I can do is match you."

Han opened an eye. "You have a past? Funny, I thought you appeared outta nowhere just to give me grief."

"You want a matching bump on the other side of your head?"

"I'll behave," he quickly added.

He settled back further, listening to the story of how the daughter of an insignificant academic and a bankrupted merchant worked and fought to become a successful business entrepreneur. Soothed by the medication, her touch and the sound of her voice, he eventually gave in and drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **X**

Han awoke with a jolt, his limbs jerking him to life. The lights in the compartment had been dimmed and he was alone. He rubbed a hand across his face and looked at his wrist chrono. It was mid-afternoon local time. He guessed he'd been asleep for a few hours and the taste in his mouth confirmed this.

His immediate thought was to call Leia on his comlink. Then he remembered that he had deliberately left the comlink in their hotel room so that Leia couldn't easily contact him and he wouldn't be tempted to cave in and apologise to her for his behaviour.

Han sat up slowly, wary of any lingering trace of the concussion, but he felt refreshed and steady enough to stand. Dragging a hand through his hair to assure himself the headache was gone, he looked around the hold and wondered where Kel was. He contemplated leaving before she returned, but that didn't feel right. The least he could do was tell her he was leaving.

Han heard voices and footsteps coming from the passage way leading to the cockpit, and Kel appeared with a middle-aged man at her side. Their conversation ceased when they noticed Han standing in the middle of the hold. Kel smiled at him brightly, while the elder man eyed him warily. Han figured he was Kel's pilot.

"Good to see you up again," Kel said.

"Thanks to you," he admitted.

"Well, as it was partly my fault you got whacked in the first place, it was the least I could do."

Han scratched the back of his head and regarded the other man. The pilot's hair was grey and thinning, his face weathered by a hundred different suns, and he wore dark blue spacers' coveralls. There was something about the way he stood slightly to one side and behind Kel that suggested subservience in their relationship.

Kel watched the two men exchange cautious nods of acknowledgment before introducing them.

"Han, this is Rodda Kavanill, my personal pilot. Rodda, Han Solo."

Han extended his hand towards the elder man. "Nice ship you've got here."

Kavanill's eyes widened in disbelief as he shook Han's hand, then he smiled to himself. "She may not have the speed of a smuggler's freighter, but she's a whole lot classier."

Han matched Kavanill's smile. The fact the man knew his background did not surprise Han; amongst spacer circles it was well known _General_ Han Solo had once been a smuggler and mercenary.

"In my experience," Han replied, "class is a matter of perspective. Give me a 0.5 hyperdrive anytime over baubles and carpeting."

"Your experience? Yes, I've heard quite a bit about _your_ experience."

Han glanced at Kel, wondering if she had asked Kavanill if he knew anything about his past. He also wondered if she was enjoying this posturing.

"I'm sure anything you've heard has been greatly exaggerated," Han said.

Kavanill nodded in agreement. "Oh, undoubtedly."

Han's smile dropped and he turned to Kel. "I better be going." He couldn't be bothered with a confrontation.

Kel was momentarily caught off guard. Her face fell slightly, then brightened again as she recovered. "I'll give you a lift."

"You don't—"

"You can drive, if you like."

That got him. "Drive?" The thought of sinking into all that leather and pushing the flashy red speeder to its limits was immensely appealing.

"Why not?" She linked her arm through his. "I think I can trust you."

He grinned wolfishly but casually disentangled himself from her grasp. "Famous last words. But I like a woman who's willing to take a risk." He made a gallant gesture towards the boarding ramp, eager to leave the tense atmosphere in the freighter. "After you."

They bade a terse good-bye to Kavanill and ambled outside to where the Harford speeder was parked. Han slid behind the steering yoke before Kel could change her mind, immediately sensing the driver's seat conforming to his body in the most ergonomic shape possible. He punched in the ignition security code Kel gave him and gradually warmed up the repulsorlift generator, relishing the harmonics of the reverberating hum. Kel caught a small smile creep across his lips.

"Don't drool on the upholstery," she told him.

He flashed her a grin. "Can't you hear her?"

Kel's eyes widened in exasperation. "Her? _Another_ her?"

"She's purring like a felinoid."

"Just drive, Solo."

Han gently applied the accelerator and nudged the speeder through the main bay doors. Once out of the bay, he winked at Kel, gunned the engine and roared off down the narrow street.


	11. Chapter 11

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XI**

The red speeder came to a halt under the hotel's portico, the engine settling into a rich, throbbing idle in the late afternoon air. Solo sighed, smiled to himself, then glanced at Kel self-consciously. Kel looked down into her lap, pretending to smooth out the hem of her dress.

"Guess this is my stop," Han said.

Kel agreed. "Guess so."

Han lingered in the seat for a while, palms absently caressing the steering yoke as he recalled the two hour journey they had taken to cover a 10 minute trip. Once away from the docking bays, and without much encouragement from Kel, he had aimed the aerodynamic vehicle along the resort's out-lying roads and floored the accelerator. Before he'd known it, they were speeding through the surrounding foothills, slipping through the decaying rock formations and gorges.

Kel had enjoyed his skilled and slightly maniacal driving skills, throwing her head back and _whooping_ in admiration. Her wit and amiable conversation had enlivened the drive, as had her blatant encouragement for him to push the speeder to its limits. More importantly, he thought, she had guts. When a road they had taken unexpectedly came to an end in a plunging precipice, forcing Han to pump the breaking thrusters and wrestle the speeder to halt at the edge, her initial yelp of fear had transformed into a battle cry of delight and appreciation.

She had also helped him forget the argument he'd had with Leia, erasing the remaining traces of his anger. At that thought, he climbed from the speeder and leaned against the hull, watching Kel slide across and assume the driver's seat. She gazed up at him, her expression suggesting she did not want him to leave.

"In spite of the thugs, the fights and the aches, I had a nice day, Han."

A lopsided smile crept up his face. "Me too."

As if waiting for the other to speak, they stared at each other silently. Han noticed how different and yet similar Kel's eyes were to Leia's, and the way her nose twitched when she smiled. He looked up at the hotel and wondered if Leia was in their room.

Kel watched his gaze flicker up to the hotel. She engaged the engine and he slowly pushed himself away from the speeder.

"I'll see you around," she said.

"Yeah."

"Enjoy the rest of your holiday."

He nodded once and she drove off down the street.

Hands in pockets, he wandered across the hotel lobby and took the turbolift up to the fourth level. It did not surprise him to find Leia was not in their room when he entered, after all it was still relatively early by her standards. He found a note she had left for him on his pillow, handwritten in her cursive style. A small, fond smile appeared as he read it:

 _I have loved every minute of our vacation, except today._

 _You were upset this morning because I broke my word to you._

 _I understand why you were angry and I am deeply sorry._

 _I would love to talk and make things right between us again._

 _Promise not to work too late. Will try to make it for dinner._

 _Love you,_

 _your L_

Sighing heavily, Han flopped onto the bed and held the sheet of flimsy against his face. The exhilaration of driving the speeder had suddenly been replaced by a wash of weariness, relief that his anger at Leia had disappeared, and a touch of something else he did not want to acknowledge. His head ached faintly, a lingering trace of the concussion.

Han knew he didn't want to get angry with Leia again; like her, he wanted this mess between them sorted out. But he couldn't see it happening. One or the other of them— _More likely me,_ he thought—was bound to say something hurtful, something they'd later regret.

 _If only she devoted as much time to us as she does to work._

He concentrated on the texture of the flimsy pressed against his skin, the words blurring at this close range until they made no sense at all. He could even detect a trace of Leia's fragrance on the note. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and tried to relax.


	12. Chapter 12

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XII**

The room was dark, warm and empty when Leia returned to their suite. It had taken her longer to contact Enash Mordy than she had initially anticipated, and the time difference between Jenolan and Coruscant had only complicated matters further. Her day had become worse once she had managed to place a call with the Sita Cretian. Eni advised her a rift had developed between the systems that had attended the recent Inner Core Trade and Finance Conference. A forum of wealthy systems calling themselves the Group of Five was threatening to split from the main council, citing their economic well-being was under threat from the less-developed systems.

Leia and Eni had spent the rest of the day in holovid conference with her own and Eni's advisors, trying to devise strategies to overcome this problem. They had not concluded the session until well into the night, and by then Leia had had also missed making it to dinner with Han.

 _At least I didn't promise I_ _ **would**_ _make it back for dinner,_ Leia tried to justify to herself.

In her defence, she had considered calling Han when it had become apparent that she would be later than she had originally intended. But she knew he had left his comlink in their room— no doubt deliberately—which suggested he was as open to communicating with her as she was with him.

The room's illumination increased to the soft 'night mode' as Leia moved from the tiled entrance onto the plush carpeting. Her note to Han lay discarded on top of the bed's rumpled covers, but Han was nowhere to be seen. This was not a good sign.

The oppressive heat and humidity in the room caused Leia to notice that the air conditioning had been turned off. The veil of curtain covering the glassine doors wafted gently, and she realised the door was open, automatically activating the air conditioning cut-off.

She walked towards the doorway expectantly and saw Han propped up in a chair on the balcony. He did not stir as she moved outside. He lay semi-upright in a recliner lounge, half in deep shadows while the other side was illuminated by the dim light coming from inside. One arm draped over the arm of the chair, his hand resting next to a half-full decipak of ale.

Leia's mouth twisted into a grimace as she folded her arms across her chest.

 _I should've known better…_

It was disappointing that he couldn't have waited up for her—after all, it wasn't _that_ late. She really had wanted to talk with him about why she had gone against the spirit of their agreement; they needed to resolve this work thing once and for all. Obviously he didn't think the same, otherwise he wouldn't have drunk himself to this point.

Leia studied him critically, sensing something not quite right about him but putting it down to the intoxicants. Her eyes moved down to the empty containers lined up next to the recliner. It was surprising he had drunk himself into a beer-induced slumber. Five small flasks was hardly enough to slow him down. _Or maybe,_ she thought, _this was only a take-away pack after he'd drunk the bar downstairs dry._

Despite the frown cleft in his brow, Han looked peaceful and the sleep appeared deep. Leia didn't think it would be wise to wake him up, even if only to put him to bed again. If he was drunk, he may want to have a discussion with her then and there, and say some things they'd both regret.

 _Best to leave sleeping Nek battle dogs lie._

Leia slipped back inside the room and closed the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XIII**

The headache had been building as he slept, thumping at his skull with a persistency he could not ignore, no matter how he tried. The pain eventually aroused him just as the rays of dawn bleached the grey sky. A chilly breeze gusted across the ocean, hitting him full in the face, and Han distantly wondered why the rest of him wasn't cold.

When he finally struggled into consciousness and opened his eyes, Han wished he hadn't. Not only did his head ache, he felt nauseous, generally ill all over and the daylight hurt his eyes. He blearily thought, . _Didn't think I had that much to drink._

Han suspected his head would fall off as he looked down at the remains of the decipak. His recollection was confirmed: there were only five flasks lined up next to the recliner lounge and he'd only taken a mouthful from the last one. The rancid smell of stale beer made his stomach turn and he struggled into a sitting position in case he threw up. A light blanket slipped off him as he leaned forward. He fought back the urge to heave, the hairs on his bare arms and legs prickling as a shiver tripped through him.

 _Damned concussion. Stupid to have even one drink._

Raising his head from his hands, Han glanced at the blanket. Leia must have come home and placed it over him.

 _Must've been really out of it if I didn't hear her. And now she thinks I got drunk instead of talkin' to her. Great._

Han slowly stood up, tested out his tingling legs and entered the room, grateful for the relative darkness within. Leia wasn't in their bed, but one side had been slept in. Dazed, he looked around the empty room.

"Leia?" His voice croaked from a dry throat as he moved into the refresher. "Leia?"

She wasn't there either, but he took advantage of the trip to grab a hangover remedy for the headache and nausea, hoping it would also work on the aftermath from his concussion. Wondering where she had gone, he shuffled out of the refresher and back towards the bed. Then he noticed a piece of flimsy, this time on the bedside table. He snatched it up, annoyed she had left him another note instead of waking him up and talking with him face-to-face before she left. Squinting and picking at the scale of synthflesh on his temple, he read her note:

 _I'm sorry you couldn't wait up for me last night._

 _I've got more things to sort out this morning,_

 _and I'm betting you'll be like a rancor with a_

 _sore head when you wake up._

 _Perhaps we can talk when I get back._

 _\- L_

 _Yeah. Fine._

He screwed up the flimsy and threw it against the wall, stubbing his toe against the bedside table in the process. Swearing and muttering Corellian curses, he tumbled onto the bed and dragged a pillow across his thumping head.

Somehow, despite the headache, Han managed to fall sleep and let the medication take its course. It was early afternoon when he awoke to warm and sticky air blowing in from the open doorway. He lay still for a few moments, coaxing his eyes to slowly open as he took stock of his condition. The headache was gone, but he felt washed out and fragile, and there was a lingering stiffness in his bones from sleeping upright in the recliner all night. But at least he didn't feel like throwing up.

He rolled over and sat up, scruffed a hand through his hair. "Leia?"

There was no response. He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

 _Still working. Or else she's avoiding me._

The 'fresher and shave didn't make him feel any better. He dressed and sat on the end of the bed for a while, staring at the door, wishing she would come through it so they could get this over and done with. Maybe then they could get on with their vacation again.

There was an emptiness in his stomach that he labelled as hunger, but the thought of food didn't sit right with him. Maybe a swim would help clear the final traces of the hangover and concussion. Maybe by then, Leia would be back.

Before he left, Han retrieved Leia's note, flattened it out on Leia's bedside table and placed his comlink on top of it. He acknowledged it was a slightly immature gesture, but he wanted Leia to be in no doubt what he thought about her notes.

The waters between the hotel and the pier boiled with tourists—swimmers, waders, and those on a variety of sailing, paddling and motorised pleasure craft. As he didn't feel inclined to share the coolness of the bay with the hustle of couples and families, Han headed along the beach, past the pier towards the empty, rockier shores, only taking time to admire the variety of human females sun-bathing on the white sand.

The outcrops of granite stretched for a good five kilometres past the pier, a collection of boulders and mounds worn smooth by the elements. The sun was hot and sharp, and before long Han removed his shirt and draped it across his head. He balanced his way along the water's edge, waves gently breaking on his ankles as he traversed the craggy shoreline. The hardness of the rocks bit into the soles of his shoes, but he enjoyed the skill and agility required to maintain his balance.

When he reached the open beach again, he turned and looked back towards Emubra's main beach. The hotels and pier were stick figures, the tourists smudges of colour. Waves rolled into the shore and seabirds cawed and whistled, spiralling in the warm updrafts. He could almost have been on different planet than the tourists back on the main beach.

Han pulled the shirt from his head, scraped his shoes into the sand, and waded into the cool, inviting bay. He let the water slowly envelope him as he sank down into it. The saltiness stung the cut on the corner of his lip, reminding him of his encounter with Kel. Annoyed for no reason he could figure, he rinsed his mouth, ducked his head and swam under water for a few strokes, then breached the surface in a gasp of breath. He shook the water from his hair, wiped a hand across his nose, and floated on his back, staring up at the cloudless sky. The gentle rocking motion as he drifted on the surface lulled him into closing his eyes. He almost felt human again.

Despite the fact his ears were submerged, Han could hear a droning noise in the distance, like the roar of a high-powered engine. The noise grew louder, more distinct, as if it was approaching, and he was able to discern the combined sound of repulsorlift and turbothrust engines. It sounded like a swoop.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he dropped his legs to stand up in the water. Further up the bay, a rider was coaxing a swoop along the beach, deliberately fish-tailing above the soft sand, swaying and weaving in a series of simple manoeuvres. For an experienced rider like Han, he gauged the rider was by no means experienced in handling a swoop, merely competent and obviously enjoying themselves.

Han waded into the shore as the swoop neared, old instincts making him wary of strangers on high-powered vehicles. He recognised the shape of a woman, dressed in shorts and a cropped top that barely covered her breasts, but his senses remained alert until she waved at him. It had to be Kel. Especially on such an expensive, glossy red swoop like this.

She came skidding to halt just as he left the water, sand flying as the swoop settled into a rich idle. He curbed a grin as her foot slipped from the control pedal and her hand prematurely released the handlebar controllers, nearly stalling the sleek speeder. But she recovered and shutdown the engines. He ambled over to her as she removed the helmet and goggles, pushing a hand through her short hair. With so much of her skin exposed, he could appreciate the fine lines of her waist and hips, the shapely turn of her breasts, and the attractive tanning of her skin. They stared at each other silently, she beaming brightly while he chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. He couldn't help noticing the way her eyes moved over him.

"The things you see when you haven't got a blaster," Kel eventually said.

He smiled wryly. "Nice to see you, too."

She placed the helmet and goggles in their holder and slipped off the swoop. He tried not to stare at her bare legs too obviously.

"How's the head?" she asked, moving toward him, her hand raised as if she meant to touch his temple.

Han shrugged dismissively, his gesture placing him out of range. "On my shoulders."

Nodding, Kel tucked away her hand. She tilted her chin out towards the bay. "And the water?"

"It was fine," he told her, "until someone decided to break the tranquillity."

Kel's eyebrows raised and she smirked at him. "Funny, you don't look the type to search for peace and quiet."

"I can be quite a peaceful guy once you get to know me."

There was another moment of awkward silence, of nothing more to say and the unspoken realisation they were standing just a little too close to each other. He took a step back, turned, picked up his discarded shirt and pulled it over his head.

"So where's the Princess?" Kel suddenly asked him.

Face hidden under the shirt, Han winced. "Around."

"But not here?"

His head popped out of the shirt and he scowled at her. "Not right now."

Kel curiously watched as he rinsed the sand from his feet and jammed his shoes back on. He stood with his back towards her as he looked out over the bay, squinting in the harsh glare. Finally he swung around and faced her. Another moment with nothing to say.

He nodded at the swoop. "Nice little scooter you've got there."

Her face lifted with relief and she smiled again. " _She_ is, isn't _she_?"

Han grinned and walked towards her and the swoop, deciding to take a closer look.

It looked almost brand new, the glossy red lacquer gleaming, stabiliser bars straight and true, and control vanes metallic-sharp in the sun. Even the upholstered leather seat looked like it had never been sat on before. Han whistled appreciatively through his teeth.

"You don't do things by halves," he said, glancing at her, "do you, Kel?"

She cocked a hand on her hip, raised a challenging eyebrow. "Can I interest you in a ride?"

Han shook his head ruefully. "I ain't touchin' that one."

Either not noticing, or choosing to ignore, the entendre, Kel nodded encouragingly. As though under coercion, Han grimaced and straddled the swoop's seat, the speeder bouncing lightly on its repulsorlift field as he cinched on the restraint strap. He ran a hand gently over the front cowling, adjusted the control handles to his height, cast a critical eye over the controls, toggled a few switches.

 _Mobquet Flare-S,_ he mused, rapping the simple comms unit with a knuckle. _Basic, flashy, but not too bad at all._ About a generation advanced from the Tagge models he'd professionally raced as a teenager, and probably twice as fast. Way too much power for an inexperienced rider such as Kel.

"What is it with you and vehicles?" Kel asked. She was standing there watching him, arms folded across her chest and a smile on her lips. "Well? Are you going to start it, or make love to it?"

Han favoured her with a pained expression, rolled the handlebar accelerator and coaxed the engines into life. The dual engines purred and thrummed, rocking beneath him. He engaged the forward control and a burst of speed took him for a short hop before he applied the braking thrusters and glanced back at Kel.

"Hop on," he called, beckoning with his head.

Kel hesitated for a moment, then climbed on behind him and strapped herself in. "Do you want my helmet?"

"My head's too big," he told her, looking over his shoulder, "and no nasty comments. But the goggles might be good."

She passed them to him, let him put them on, then looped her arms around his waist, deciding against wearing the helmet as well.

"Hold on," Han instructed.

He ducked the swoop around 180 degrees, twisted the accelerator and the sped off down the beach away from Emubra. He aimed the swoop along the wet stretch of sand where the waves broke on the shore, the force of the repulsorlifts sucking up a veil of water as they raced along. He felt Kel adjust her grip, tightening out of surprise at the speed with which he pushed the swoop, but she didn't protest. He smirked and increased acceleration.

They roared along the shore towards the end of the bay and a narrow neck of rocks leading out into the water. Impulsively, he veered off inland and climbed over the immaculate white sand dunes, venturing back to the ocean when they had rounded the edge of the bay. He figured they were a good ten kilometres or so from Emubra's pier, away from the calm waters and out on an open stretch of coast. With no constraining bay to refrain them, the waves pounded onto the beach, cracking and rumbling into surf. Han poured on the speed, hunching down to avoid the swoop's slipstream. Kel pressed her face against his back and held on tight.

He kept the dunes to his right for a few minutes, revelling in the pure speed of the swoop—120, 130, 140 kilometres an hour. The wind howled and snatched at their clothing. The dunes rolled up into a slope of rock, and then they were racing alongside a golden yellow cliff stretching off along the coast. The beach narrowed as the rock face edged closer to the ocean.

Han conned the swoop into a tight banking turn, pressing the jagged cliff face only metres from the engine pods. Kel gasped, a sharp intact of breath, and clutched at him, her face hidden in his shirt. Despite the distraction of her grip, he waggled the swoop onto an even plane and headed back the way they had come, this time zipping over the dunes, his speed somewhat reduced. Although what Kel classed as danger was past, her arms remained firmly clasped around Han's waist, head against his back. Despite himself, he liked the feel of her warm breath through the fabric of his shirt, her arms holding onto him. It scared the shit out of him.

When Kel realised they had slowed, her grip loosened and she raised her head. They were heading towards the resort town again. She frowned in dismay, found her voice.

"Is that it?" Kel yelled over the wind.

Han glanced at her. "You still there? I thought I'd lost you on the cliff face."

She thumped a fist playfully into his back. "Smart ass!"

"Hey!" he protested in mock indignation. "I'm flyin' here. You want me to lose concentration."

"You mean you actually concentrate to fly this thing?"

He grinned and muttered, "Nice."

The swoop bobbed up and down across the sand as he followed the contours of the dunes at an altitude of only two metres, tempted to crank up the throttle once more but aware that his passenger might not be so keen.

Her grip had relaxed noticeably, and had moved from his waist up across his upper abdomen, her fingers tentatively exploring the tight muscle she found. Kel leaned further into him, her breasts pressed into his back, chin almost resting on his shoulder so that her mouth was close to his ear. He stiffened slightly at the touch of her breath, pulse quickening as he remembered that she was considerably taller than Leia.

"Turn left here," Kel told him. "Follow the stream."

Ahead, the dunes flattened out as a stream of water trickled between them, heading onto the granite rocks and the bay. To the left, the stream stretched into the dunes, disappearing in the distance. Han turned his cheek slightly towards her, questioningly, and her lips brushed his ear.

"I want to show you something I found," she said.

Her lips remained against his ear as he hesitated, fighting the tingling in his system. He could almost have sworn her lips had pouted slightly and she had kissed him.

She added, "Unless you've had enough."

Han angled the swoop to port and headed inland. They flew on in silence, the dunes gradually blending into a coastal sand plain dotted with tussocks of silver-grey grass. Apart from passing over the odd animal track that ran perpendicular to the stream, there was no indication that this area was visited by any sentient life forms, tourist or local.

As they continued further inland, the colour of the sand changed from pristine white to golden yellow and then into various shades of red, orange and ochre. Han edged the swoop over a crest and came to an abrupt halt. He pushed the goggles onto his forehead and stared at the landscape in front of him. For as far as he could see, pillars of stone dotted the barren sand. A myriad of shapes and sizes, the wind scoured stones stood like silent sentinels on the desert floor. In the days since making planetfall, Han had not ventured past the resort town or its beach, and it surprised him to see such a strangely beautiful natural monument.

"Isn't it incredible?" Kel asked, her head back behind his shoulder again. "For some reason the locals don't like coming here and won't even talk about it. But I heard about this place from Kavanill." She exhaled and smiled. "I'm glad I was eventually able to find it. Kavanill finally proved useful."

Han shaded his eyes and scanned the horizon. There had to be literally thousands of pale stone pillars, just standing there, in the middle of nowhere. He'd never seen anything like it before. Had he been forced to come sight-seeing here by Leia, he doubted he would have appreciated the sight as much.

"What are they?" Han quietly asked.

Kel leaned her forearm on his shoulder and rested her chin against it. "Trees. Well, not actually trees. Apparently, after the sea receded, this was once a forest. A climate change caused the plants to die out. But time and rain had dissolved minerals out of the sand and this had settled around the roots of the trees. The minerals solidified. Once the tops of the trees decomposed and disappeared, the wind exposed the sand away. And there we have these pinnacles or pillars of rock."

Han looked over his shoulder at Kel. Her hair lifted in the warm breeze and a film of sand covered her face. Still leaning against him, she stared out over the remains of the ancient forest, a whimsical smile turning the corners of her lips. Her gaze met his and her grin became bashful, embarrassed at her reverie.

"For such a shallow person," Han told her solemnly, "you're awfully deep." His eyes held hers for a few moments, before he adjusted the goggles back over his eyes and grinned maniacally. "But seein' as I'm not, you'll have to excuse the following." He swung back towards the control bars and kicked the swoop into gear. "Hang on, sweetheart. Things might get a bit bumpy."

Han released the brake thrusters and slipped down the slope, heading towards the pinnacles. With all the skill of the course rider he had once been, Han manoeuvred the swoop into a zig-zagging pattern between the rock formations, dipping and weaving the small craft perilously close to the stone. Kel held onto his middle and followed his lead, leaning her body in unison with his to assist with the manoeuvres. Before long they had established a smooth rhythm of twist, slide and turn, enjoying the harmony they shared.

After nearly an hour of dancing through the pillars, by unspoken mutual agreement Han levelled the swoop into a direct line and headed back towards the stream that had lead them out this way. He pushed the swoop up the crest of dune and glanced back towards the pillars, only then noticing a figure in the distance. Perhaps 100 metres away, back in the stone forest, a man was walking across the sand, heading towards Emubra after also having visited the pillars. The man's head was turned in the direction of the swoop, following its path; with the noise of the twin engines echoing around the desert floor, the swoop would have been difficult to miss. Dressed in dun-coloured clothing, the stranger blended into his surrounds. It was little wonder Han had not noticed him before.

Han ducked his head and increased speed, hoping to all hell that the stranger wasn't Luke.

"Something wrong?" Kel asked.

"No," Han replied, perhaps a tad too quickly.

It didn't take long to reach the outskirts of Emubra, but instead of heading back to the pier or his hotel, Han took the streets leading to the docking bays. He didn't stop at the bay housing the _Fiscal Warrior_. He continued further down, eventually braking at the main doors to one of the less expensive, open roofed bays.

Hands still on the control bars, Han sat on the swoop and exhaled loudly. Kel's hands slipped from his waist and rested casually on his thighs. A fine layer of sand covered them both from head to foot. He felt tired, but invigorated. He released the restraining strap, hands brushing against hers in the process, then swung his leg over the seat and stood up. He stretched, arched his back and removed the goggles from his head. Kel joined him, also limbering up stiff muscles. She cringed and rubbed at the point where her shoulder met her neck. Without thinking, Han placed his hands on her shoulders and briefly massaged away the cramp.

"Where to now?" Kel asked, turning towards him.

His eyes were two bright spots on his dusty face, the goggles having protected them from the sand. He ran a hand vigorously through his hair, shaking the grit from it.

"You showed me yours," Han said, winking, "now I'll show you mine."

He keyed open the door and pushed the swoop through, Kel following behind.

"This is the _Millennium Falcon_."

Kel's mouth opened in consternation as she studied the battered freighter—odd pieces of plating; mismatched components; the distinctive scorch marks where blaster fire had branded her. Her eyes narrowed, then she nodded and looked back at Han as he secured the bay door and parked the swoop.

"I imagine there's more to her than meets the eye," Kel told him. "A lot like her captain, I suggest."

Han shrugged and headed towards the boarding ramp. "She suits me."

Kel tagged along. "Interesting little decorations you've got there on the central axis." She pointed at the twin quad guns. "I can't recall seeing that sort of weaponry on any kind of trader's ship before." She followed him up the boarding ramp. "Except maybe a smuggler's freighter."

His back was to her as he pressed his hand against the palm plate and keyed in an additional code sequence.

"Maybe," he conceded. "Once." The hatch rolled up and he turned towards her. "In a previous life."

He grinned at her, strangely unperturbed at revealing a piece of his past. Perhaps, he considered, it was because Kel had already guessed a lot about his past.

"Of course in a previous life," Kel agreed with only a hint of sarcasm. "I'd never suggest that a New Republic general was involved in anything untoward. It just simply wouldn't be heard of."

"That's right. I'm respectable now." He bowed gallantly and indicated the entrance with a sweep of his arm. "After you, Ms del Rado."

Kel bobbed her head and stifled a laugh. "Why thank you, General Solo."

She entered the _Falcon_ , instinctively heading right, towards the area where her own ship's main compartment was located. Han followed, watching with interest as Kel's gaze tracked over the innards of the once-working freighter. She noted the undecorated bulkheads and hard deckplates, the slightly grimy safety cushions, exposed circuitry and cabling, and the over-riding smell of lubricants in the air. She glanced down the arm leading towards the cockpit, before moving into the forward compartment.

"A game table?" she said, her hands running over the smooth surface of the table in front of the acceleration couch. She looked at him quizzically. "I never picked you as being interested in board games."

Han flopped down into the chair at the auxiliary station. "A guys got to have something to do during those long hyperspace flights."

Kel averted her eyes and continued her inspection of the compartment. "I can think of other things to do."

Han smiled. "Yeah. There's that too."

He watched her stretch again, arms reaching high above her head, appreciating the way the shirt moved over her breasts. He tried to shake his mind from the effect she was having on him, but it wasn't his brain he was worried about.

"Why don't you think I'd play hologames?" Han asked.

"I would have thought hologames would be too cerebral for you," Kel ventured. "You look like you'd rather play a high stakes game of chance and bluff."

"Like sabacc?" he suggested.

Kel smiled triumphantly. "As a matter of fact, I do."

He beamed at her play on words and added, "I got the _Falcon_ in a game of sabacc."

"Did you win or lose?" she asked politely.

He grinned. "I always win, sweetheart."

"Would you like to bet on that?"

Her smile became predatory and he matched it.

"You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" he asked.

Kel returned his gaze. "Do you?"

Han blinked from her intense stare, prepared to let her win this one. "I'm just talkin' sabacc, Kel." His stomached rumbled and as an afterthought he added, "And maybe some leftovers from the galley."

The playfulness dropped from her tone as she asked him, "Don't you have somewhere else you're supposed to be?"

Han thought about Leia for the first time in hours. It was late afternoon, probably two hours until twilight. He wondered if she had finished her work yet. Knowing Leia, more than likely not.

"No."

Kel pursed her lips thoughtfully and nodded. "Mind if I clean up a bit first?" she asked.

"Sure." He rose and moved to show her where the crew area was. "'Fresher's back down—"

She touched his arm. "I think I can find my way around, thanks."

His shoulders shrugged, perhaps a bit nerfishly. "Okay."

It didn't take Kel long to clean off the dust from both herself and her clothes. Han discretely waited until she had returned to the main compartment before venturing down to the refresher himself. He ambled back into the compartment dressed in his dark, military cut trousers and white shirt, deciding it was a little too warm for the vest. Kel was seated at the hologame table, having already pulled out the leftovers from the galley and re-heated them. A plate of traladon ribs in a spicy sauce complete with the last remaining sheets of flatbread waited for him.

"Looks like you can re-heat food just as well as me," Han remarked, hunting around for the sabacc cards.

He found the cards and the randomiser field generator hiding in a tool box.

"Anything to drink?" he offered as he placed them on the table.

"As long as it's non-alcoholic," Kel replied. "I don't like to gamble and drink at the same time."

"Fine with me." Han fetched two kaffes from the galley. "I made the mistake of having a few beers last night and it didn't go down too well with the concussion."

Kel winced sympathetically. "Ouch."

"Ouch is right."

He sat down next to her, dealt the cards and picked up a traladon rib with his fingers.

"So what are we betting with?" he asked around a mouthful of meat.

"Credits," she explained, pulling some out from the pouch around her waist.

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed. What did you think we were playing for?"

His mouth formed a grim line and he frowned. "Credits, I suppose."

He pulled the wallet from his waist band, hunted around inside. His fingers brushed past the bracelet he had bought—Kel had bought for him—for Leia and grabbed a few credit pieces and local currency vouchers.

Kel chewed at a rib, carefully studying the bone.

"I can remember playing Strip Sabacc as a teenager in school," she ventured, smiling at the memory.

"Gee, I wish I'd gone to the same school as you," Han opined glibly. Then suddenly he was all business. "Okay, Corellian Rules. Minimum two card discard. Opening stakes, 10 credits. Minimum bet, five." It wasn't exactly high stakes but it would do for a start. Until he saw how serious she was.

Han activated the randomiser and collected his cards. The two Smuggler cards at four points each, a Bounty Hunter and the Five of Coins, for a total of 16. Not a bad hand to be begin with. His mouth twisted in thought. With both the Smuggler cards, he'd aim for the Smuggler's Array and hope he got two Coins cards of any value.

He chipped 20 credits into the pot, pressed the scrambler button on the cards he didn't want and placed them into the randomizer field. He looked across at Kel. She was biting her bottom lip, clearly undecided.

"I never was very good at this game," she mumbled.

Han allowed himself a small smile. She matched his bet and surprised him by discarding all four cards into the field. They pulled their cards out together. Han's first card was the Three of Coins, but the second was the Ten of Sabers. He wrinkled his nose. Not what he wanted, but not too bad—his cards totalled 21, only two away from Pure Sabacc. He added another 20 credits to the pot, which Kel matched.

"Pure Sabacc," Kel called out, laying her cards on the table for him to see.

Han gaped and checked her cards, a real mish-mash of suits and numbers—the Three of Staves, Five of Sabers, Six of Coins and Nine of Flasks—but there they were, totalling 23. Pure Sabacc. He cleared his throat. Kel fished the 80 credits out of the pot and pushed 10 back in.

"Maybe this is my lucky day," Kel said.

"Beginner's luck," Han grunted.

She collected the new hand of cards he dealt. "Oh, you'll find I'm no beginner, Han."

Kel won the next five hands before Han jagged, rather appropriately, an Idiot's Array, for by that stage he was starting to feel slightly idiotic that an inexperienced female was beating him at his own game. From that point on, he steadily won each hand, even feeling cocky enough to suggest changing the rule variant to one she was more comfortable with, but she said she preferred Corellian. By the time Han had a couple hundred of Kel's credits in front of him, he was beginning to wonder if she might be losing on purpose; it seemed all too easy.

Their conversation had continued along the pattern they had earlier developed, lively and bantering, and he was mildly surprised at the ease they had established rapport. She was easy to talk to, easy to listen to, a trait he had not found in another woman since he'd met Leia. Since, he amended, he and Leia had started talking and listening to each other; they had not always gotten along as well as they did now. He stopped and thought about that. _And she hasn't been doing much listening lately._

"How'd you get to be a general, anyway?" Kel asked suddenly. "Seems a bit of a leap from smuggler to New Republic general." She lowered her voice, as if talking to herself. "Unless of course the standards have dropped."

Han shook his head and grinned at her quip. "Believe me," he said, "there ain't much difference. You gotta watch your back in both cases. If you're not looking out for your opponents, it's your boss who's gunning for you. In fact, most sentients I've worked for could learn a thing or two from the politicians in the NR government."

Laughing, Kel suggested, "And I suppose as a general, you can't just fry your boss if you disagree with him."

Han made a clucking noise out the corner of his mouth. "There's that disadvantage too."

He glanced at his cards and scratched the scar on his chin as he considered his next move. He found himself talking without a conscious effort to hide his past.

"The general thing came over from the Rebel Alliance," he explained. "I'd had a bit of military training when I was younger, and I'd been with the Rebels for a while. Unofficially," he added quickly. "Just haulage jobs and anything else they paid for.

"Anyway, they needed a few more generals for the Battle of Endor, so they gave the pips to me. I guess it stuck. When the Alliance military became the foundation for NR forces, they transferred me over and the rank with it. It probably helped that by then, everyone knew Leia and I had a relationship. They had to do something with me. They had to make sure I got some respectability."

"Rank doesn't always imply respectability," Kel noted.

Han glanced at Kel. "Well, they couldn't have a councillor shacking up with a smuggler."

"A Corellian one at that."

"It was bad enough I'd already been one," he agreed.

Han returned to his cards, discarded the ones he didn't want into the field and made a bet.

"And so that's how I got to be a general."

The air between them was heavy with unspoken words and Han became aware of Kel's careful scrutiny of him. She hadn't even chosen the cards she wanted to keep. He kept his gaze on the hand in front of him.

"Can you answer me one thing?" Kel finally said.

Han glanced up to show he was listening.

"Why are you still a general?"

He didn't think long about his answer. "Because I am."

A brilliance flashed in her eyes. "If that's all there is to it, then—"

"Then what?" he interrupted darkly.

As if prepared to argue the point with him, she returned his stare, nearly-black eyes contesting hazel. Instead, she added quietly, "Then it's none of my business."

"You're right. It's none of your business."

They completed the hand in silence, Han winning the round before heading off to the galley to refill their mugs with fresh kaffe. Before returning to the compartment, he took a deep breath and tried to repel the muddle of thoughts rushing through his brain. It was bad enough that Kel's presence caused him physical affects. Now she appeared to be messing with his mind.

The game continued upon his return, and although he was winning, Han wondered how it would end.

In a repentant gesture, Kel initiated the conversation by asking him about the _Millennium Falcon_. She questioned him about the finer points of the specifications, asked about modifications he had made and the differences between the YT-2400 and the older YT-1300. Discussing his ship, Han relaxed back into the couch, exaggerating slightly about her capabilities and enjoying the fact that Kel also knew he was exaggerating. His bragging led to stories of some of his wild exploits as a young spacer, drawing out laughter and much bemused head shaking from Kel.

Having finished the highly improbable re-telling of how he rescued Chewie from the prison at Stars' End, Han dealt another hand as Kel recovered from a fit of laughter. Wiping at her eyes, she collected the cards and shuffled upright onto the couch again.

"What do you think you'd be doing now if you weren't a general?" she asked him.

Han lifted a shoulder. "Smuggling somewhere, I guess. Or else I could be dead. It's not improbable that some bounty hunter might've got lucky."

"You had a bounty on you?" Kel asked incredulously. "That must have been quite a reputation you had."

Han smirked. "I was one bad son of a bitch."

She matched his smile. "I bet you were." In addition to the _Falcon's_ quad guns and the highly illegal armour plating, he walked as if a holster usually sat on his thigh and she had noticed the target remote sitting on a work bench. "And now?"

Han's smirk grew into a smile. "I'm still a bad son of a bitch. Only now I got manners and talk nice."

He found himself laughing with her, the game momentarily forgotten.

"Have you ever thought of going back to being an independent spacer? Working for yourself?"

"Occasionally," Han confessed. "Like when the datawork sits one metre high on my desk and I can't stomach the thought of another meeting. But I don't know if I could handle that kinda work anymore. Being a general may not be that different from smuggling, but at least I've gotta greater chance of being alive at the end of the day. Besides, Chewie—my partner—he's got a family to worry about and I'd rather not take him away from them. Or be responsible for anything happening to him. He's already given me too much of his life as it is."

"What about working for me?" she asked.

Han hesitated for a moment, then the lopsided grin re-appeared. "I thought we'd been through that—"

"No, I mean flying," Kel explained quickly. "Flying for me. Be my pilot."

He pointed out, "You've got Kavanill."

Kel pursed her lips in consideration. "I'm thinking of letting him go. He's an average pilot at best. And invariably a huge a pain in the ass the rest of the time."

Han's mouth twisted as he raised an eyebrow. "And I wouldn't be?"

She gestured with her hands. "An NR general? An independent spacer and ex-smuggler? I could use someone with your unique brand of skills. You'd be more than handy. You'd be indispensable. And there'd be appropriate remuneration for those skills."

Han's sneer was almost convincing, but not quite. "You'd expect me to cart you around to meetings and conventions, flying that cruise liner of yours?"

A small smile turned the corners of Kel's mouth, and she nodded, offering to agree with his disparaging remarks.

"We could always modify it," she said quietly, then added, "Her."

Han returned his gaze to his cards and said nothing. She left it at that.

The game continued.

"How does a smuggler wind up with a princess?" Kel asked as he flicked more of her credits towards his growing pile.

"Long story." Han sipped at his third mug of kaffe.

"At the rate it's going to take me to win back my credits," Kel suggested, "we've got all night."

Han considered the credits in front of him, and then the attractive woman sitting opposite him. They were her credits after all, and this was only meant to be a friendly game of sabacc—something to while away the time. What was the time, anyway? Surely Leia would have finished work by now. She would know where he was. It was inevitable that he would wind up at the _Falcon_ ; he _was_ that predictable.

Han considered whether he should head back to the hotel. Then he wondered why Leia hadn't placed a call to the _Falcon_ to find out where he was. There was no doubt she knew he had deliberately left his comlink behind.

"It's not very interesting," Han muttered.

Kel's eyebrow arched suspiciously. "Indulge me. I'll let you know when you start to bore me, though my snores may give me away."

"A woman who actually admits she snores," Han mused.

"Share a bed with me," she told him, openly staring, "and I'll keep you awake all night."

He returned her gaze, his voice lowering to a soft rumble. "I bet you would."

Kel caressed the edge of a sabacc card with a finger, an enigmatic smile forming on her lips. Without shifting her eyes from him, she lifted the mug to her mouth, took a sip and returned it to the table. He watched as the tip of her tongue moved across her lips, catching a drop of kaffe.

"So," she said.

The air in the hold seemed stifling, the sweat gathered under his arms, and Han vaguely wondered if the _Falcon's_ environmental control system had decided to play up.

"So," Kel repeated. "Are you going to give me a chance to win back my credits?"

Han's smile seemed uncertain. "Sure. And, for a bonus, I'll tell you how I hooked up with Leia."

He gave her the condensed version of how his relationship with Leia arose, leaving out all the tedious political and military details, the galaxy-shattering mention of a Death Star and a poorly planned rescue. Instead he provided a summary along the lines of: smuggler meets princess, princess and smuggler hate each other, princess and smuggler realise they love each other, princess and smuggler get together.

"And they lived happily ever after?" Kel offered as he dealt another hand of sabacc.

Han collected his cards and smiled stiffly. The Mistress of Sabers, a Smuggler, a Jedi Knight and the Two of Flasks—29.

"Some days," he replied.

He threw 50 credits into the pot, on top of the 10 he'd already placed there, hoping to lose Kel's money back to her as quickly as possible. Discarding the Smuggler, the Jedi Knight and the Two of Flasks into the randomiser, he watched as she matched his bet. Her eyes flicked up to his face, but she said nothing.

The cards he retrieved were, as he'd hoped, not much use: the Flask card had morphed into the Mistress of Coins, the Knight into a Jedi Master, and the Smuggler had become—rather appropriately—an Idiot. His hand totalled only 13.

Han threw another 50 credits into the pot, hoping Kel would not fold. Kel's eyes widened at the sudden increase in his wager, but met it and added another 50 credits for good measure.

"Either you're extremely confident," she remarked. "Or you're bluffing. Or else…" Her eyes dropped to her cards. "..you want to get rid of me."

He folded his cards onto the table. "I'm out," he said. "Too rich for me."

Kel made a pained expression at his convenient excuse for not continuing with the hand.

"If you play like that all the time, Solo, I'm not surprised you're still flying around in a crate like this."

Ordinarily a quip like that about his beloved freighter would have caused howls of protest from Solo. Instead he forced down the cold dregs of his kaffe and swallowed hard.

"I think I need some fresh air," he muttered, rising from the couch.

Kel slapped her cards onto the table. "I've had about enough as well. I should be going."

Chewing the inside of his mouth, he guiltily looked back down at her, smiled weakly. He didn't want her to leave like this, thinking that he wanted to be rid of her. Part of him didn't want her to leave at all. But another part of him he knew that she had to.

"Let me show you something first," Han offered as she slid out from the couch, "before you go."

Kel folded her arms across her chest and eyed him warily. "Another game, Han?"

He beckoned with his head and for some reason she followed. They took the service lift up to the top hatch, acutely aware of the confined space they shared. Kel refused to look into Han's eyes, and instead found herself concentrating on the place on his neck where the clavicle dipped onto the top of his sternum. She couldn't help noticing the strong line of his jaw and the way his larynx bobbed as he swallowed.

Cool air hit their faces as the hatch scissored open. The sun had long since set and it was dark as they moved up onto the freighter's unlit hull, leaving behind the lights inside. Kel's breath caught in her throat when he took her hand. She let out a disappointed sigh as she realised his actions had been instinctive protection, for he steadied her balance as he led her to a level area of the _Falcon_ , moving across the darkened surface with familiarity and confidence.

For a moment he stood looking at her, still holding her hand in his, unable to make out her features and yet grateful for the cover the night offered. The sounds of Emubra's restaurants and clubs filtered over the top of the open docking bay. Belatedly he released her hand and looked up into the night. Kel followed the movement of his head and raised her face. The sky was a mass of stars. He smiled to himself at the sound of her sharp intake of breath.

Kel had never seen anything quite like it before. Millions of points of light twinkled against the deep black of space, glittering like shards of glassine and crystalex. She had travelled extensively throughout her life, but never had she seen something as overwhelming as this. All the planets she had ever visited, including Coruscant, had too much artificial light to allow the surrounding stars to be adequately seen on the planet. Even away from the confines of terrestrial atmospherics, the view of stars through a cockpit window was limited, and starlight did not twinkle and sparkle in the vacuum of space. But here, on a relatively undeveloped planet like Jenolan, the stars could be seen as the ancients had—jewels in the night sky. It startled her to think that in the time she had been on Jenolan, she had never consciously looked up into the night sky to appreciate it.

"It's beautiful," Kel whispered.

Han was standing next to her, close, and when he spoke, she could feel his breath move across the top of her head.

"I kinda like it too," he confided.

They continued their star-gazing in comfortable silence, the peace only disturbed when she asked him to point out the star which Coruscant orbited. It took a moment for him to orientate himself, before he moved closer and raised his arm along her view of sight. She nodded as she followed his pointed finger, then turned her head towards him.

"And Corell?"

Her words ere warm across his cheek. He fought the urge to face her, and instead located his home star. His hand arced across the sky.

"There," he said, but he knew she wasn't looking.

He dropped his arm, head swivelling as he turned to her. His night vision had improved, and at this close proximity he could make out her features. Her eyes held his as she waited for him to respond. He glanced at her lips.

"I better be heading off," Han said, his eyes flicking back up to hers. "Leia will be wondering what's happened to me."

He moved from her side, back towards the top hatch. Kel flinched, nodded, swallowed the knot from her throat. She managed to find her voice.

"Sure. Can I drop you off?" Her voice was deceptively steady and light.

Han kept his back to her. "I think I better walk."

Somehow Han was able to lead Kel out of the _Falcon_ without looking at her again. It helped that Kel also kept her gaze averted. They crossed the docking bay together and he keyed open the door as she mounted the swoop. Only then did he turn to watch her place on the helmet and goggles. She pressed the swoop's engines to life.

"Thanks again for another nice day," Kel told him, her subdued tone at odds with her words. "Even if you did win all my money." She faltered with the swoop's controls. "It would be even nicer if I could see you again."

Han shook his head and grimaced. "I don't think that's possible, Kel."

She nodded slowly in agreement. "You're probably right. I should be going."

She clicked the swoop into gear and drove past him into the night. Han sealed the bay doors behind her.

Long after Kel had left, Han wandered around the interior of his ship, making cursory checks of various systems. He wasn't ready to return to the hotel, to kiss and make up with Leia.

It annoyed and disturbed him that Leia hadn't called to see if he was on the _Falcon_ , and yet she had to have guessed where he was. Or else she could have asked Luke to seek him out using the Force. Either way, she appeared to be deliberately avoiding him. He ignored the fact that he was doing a fine job of avoidance as well.

Han wondered if Leia could sense the mixed feelings he had been experiencing, but decided that was a skill she either could not use, or did not employ on him. It would seem too much like 'spying' for her liking.

Was she ignoring him as punishment for the argument they had had the previous day? He wouldn't put it past her.

 _Damn her and her New Republic._ He thumped his fist against a bulkhead. _So much for our little vacation. Everything's well and truly fucked up now._

Solo took a seat at the auxiliary station, prodded a finger at a readout and screwed up his face in disgust. _This used to be a smuggler's freighter,_ he mused, _a working ship. Now she's just used to jall around in at the end of a work cycle and for vacations. Whatever good_ _ **that**_ _does me._

He swiped the hydrospanner from the bench top, listening with some satisfaction as it skittered across the deckplates. Resting an elbow on the bench, he leaned his head against his hand and dragged his fingers through his hair. He wondered if the answer to his problems lay in a bottle of Corellian ale. But recalling the previous night's results, he decided against the drink and instead headed for the solitude of his cabin and his bunk.

His sleep was neither deep nor restful.


	14. Chapter 14

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XIV**

The door to their hotel room seemed an insurmountable barrier. Han stared at the door's smooth surface, hand hovering above the security access pad, not certain he was ready to face Leia. He hadn't spoken to her or seen her for nearly two Jenolan days. Two days of their vacation. Two days he could have been spending with her—wasted. Two days he had helped waste.

With a frustrated sigh, he keyed open the door and entered.

The room was empty. No Leia. No Luke. Not even another new note from Leia left somewhere for him to discover. His comlink was also where he had left it, on Leia's bedside table.

Han caught sight of himself in the wall mirror opposite the bed. The cool, indigenous Jenolan clothes were gone and a weariness marred his features. Despite the heat, he had decided upon his shipboard clothing when he had awoken in his cabin this morning, any holiday spirit he once had now gone. He had been tempted to hook the holster to his belt and wear his blaster pistol in an act of defiance towards Leia, but for some reason he wanted to play this wager business right out until the end.

Han stepped out onto the balcony and craned his head in the direction of Luke's adjoining room, thinking that Leia might be next door with him. The room was angled slightly off from theirs, and it appeared to be empty, the balcony door firmly locked. Han frowned, imagining what nonsense Luke would be filling her head with, especially if he had seen himself and Kel swoop-riding the previous day. Then he wondered if Leia _was_ with Luke. She could still be working on the 'problem' which had arisen two days ago. Or perhaps she was straight out ignoring him.

Han tapped the balcony railing impatiently, considering how long he would wait for her before he went off and did something else. Two could play at this game.

His gaze shifted to the shimmering surface of the bay, past the pier and the rocks, moving out along the sweeping line of beach. The deep blue sky stretched forever, almost as far as he could possibly imagine.

Han wondered if the day would improve, the way it had yesterday. Although it had started out as a bastard, it had gradually become good, thanks mainly to Kel. He had enjoyed the time he had spent with her. Enjoyed her company and friendship. The interests they shared. The way she looked and felt. He had enjoyed things so much, they had kept him turning and tossing throughout the long night. Especially the job offer.

Without a further thought, he strode back through the room and out the front door.

Solo caught a cab to the outskirts of the docking bays and briefly stopped in at the bay the _Falcon_ was in, not certain why he felt compelled to check on his ship. Satisfied by the view of his stock light freighter, he headed around to the larger undercover hangars. His eyes skimmed over the luminous identification plates as he strode along the walkway, hoping he remembered the registration number of the bay correctly.

Han was fortunate the main door to the bay he wanted was open.

 _Sloppy,_ he thought as the hatch slid open. _Not only is Kavanill an average pilot, he's got a lot to learn about security._

Han entered the hangar, a relieved smile coming to his lips when he recognized the YT-2400 in front of him. The _Fiscal Warrior_ was a sleek looking piece of Corellian aerospace technology, another testimony to the Corellian Engineering Corporation. The silver finish of the trademark saucer-shaped hull gleamed in the wash from the overhead lights. All her panels were matched, straight and intact.

 _Shame about the lack of firepower,_ Han mused as he ambled towards the entry ramp. _And what a dumb ass name. But I'm sure we can negotiate some level of change._

He noted neither Kel's speeder nor swoop were parked in the bay, and it was with a touch of anticipated disappointment that he placed a boot on the bottom of the ramp. He halted as Kel's pilot, Rodda Kavanill, suddenly appeared at the ship's main hatch.

Kavanill seemed not to notice Solo. The older man's face was flushed with anger and he muttered to himself as he stomped down the ramp, his gaze firmly locked on his path. Kavanill pushed a hand through thinning hair and looked up as he became aware of Solo's presence. His eyes sharpened at first, then narrowed as he recognised the Corellian's face. Han returned the inspection with equal disdain, though his own expression revealed nothing of his thoughts.

"Boss at home?" Solo asked as Kavanill stopped in front of him.

Kavanill crossed his arms and sneered. "You got an appointment?"

Han almost smirked. "You think I need one?"

"Probably not," Kavanill agreed, one eyebrow raised. "But then I suspect you'd never keep one."

Han's response was deadpan. "Probably not."

The elder man's gaze hardened. "You know, _General_." He was careful not to push his pointed finger into Han's chest. "It's people like you, people who move beyond their station, who cause the rest of us grief.

"I'm sorry if you have a problem with me." Solo's dark tone offered no apology.

Kavanill shook his head ruefully. "I've got no problem with you, Solo. I just don't like you."

"I'll remember that."

"You do that." Kavanill grunted as he moved past Han, his shoulder brushing the Corellian's. "And you're more than welcome to _her_."

"Thanks for your help," Han called out to the man's departing back.

Solo made his way to the ship's forward compartment. A young man, probably no older than Luke had been when Han had first met him, rose from his seat as Han entered. Dressed in spacer's coveralls and messing with a relay switch, Han guessed the boy was the co-pilot.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Han grinned; the boy was as painfully polite as Luke had been.

"Is Kel around?"

The co-pilot was caught off-guard, as if unfamiliar with the informal reference to his employer.

"Aah, yes, sir." His eyes switched from Han to the direction of the living quarters. "She's in her cabin. Is she expecting you?"

Solo made an indifferent face. "I don't know."

The younger man hesitated for a moment, before moving to the comlink station.

"I'll check to see if she's available. Can I say who's calling?"

"Let me surprise her," Han replied with an inspired grin.

The co-pilot seemed uncertain. "I don't know about that, sir. Ms del Rado likes her privacy maintained."

Han held his palms open and wide. "Look. I'm unarmed. And a friend. Blame it on me if she doesn't like the surprise." He craned his head in the direction the boy had looked. "Is that the way?"

"I'll show—"

Han cut him with a raised hand. "I'm sure I can find my way."

He started down the corridor a few paces, then turned back questioningly towards the co-pilot.

"Third hatch on the right," the boy added.

Han nodded his gratitude.

Solo bet on Kel not securing her cabin and was rewarded when the door opened at his touch. Kel was seated at a terminal located on the far side of the room, her back towards the hatch. She sighed as the panel hissed open, her shoulders noticeably heaving. Han stood at the threshold and waited.

"What is it now, Kav?" Kel asked, wearily leaning her forehead into her palm.

"That's a good way to get yourself killed."

Kel spun in her chair at the sound of Han's voice. Her eyes brightened and she smiled at him but remained in her seat.

Without hesitation or permission, Han entered the cabin. His gaze shifted across the plush furnishings as he strode towards Kel—muted colours of aqua and sea-green—before settling on her again.

Hands hitched on hips, he stopped in front of her and tried his best to look stern.

"Bay doors unsealed. Main hatch and ramp open. A kid who lets me wander through the ship by myself without asking for any kind of credentials. The hatch to your cabin unlocked. And you sitting there with your back to the only entrance." Solo _tsked_ at her and shook his head sadly. "In fact, quite a number of ways to do yourself in."

"Sounds like a man speaking from experience," Kel coyly suggested.

"A lot of experience," Han agreed with a smug smile.

"Well, I hope you didn't come here just to lecture me," she said, adding a melodramatic yawn. "There's already someone around here who tries to do that and I find it rather tedious."

His smile dropped and he said quietly, "Tell me about your offer."

Kel's lips pursed. "Which one?"

Han grinned at her innuendo but continued. "The job. Piloting this crate. Tell me about it."

"Why?" she asked in a sudden brusque tone, her eyes flaring. "Do you want me to talk you into it?"

He grimaced and shrugged. "You got me thinking last night." He doubted she realised just _how much_ she had got him thinking.

Her gaze softened. "Then we're even."

They considered each other silently before he pulled up a chair and sat in front of her, forearms resting on his legs.

"So what are you offering?" he asked.

She sighed again and motioned with her head for him to move closer.

"Another coincidence, I know," she said, "but I was just going through Kavanill's contract." She turned back to the terminal and he slid his chair next to hers. "We had another altercation this morning, and, regardless of what you decide, I've decided to let Kavanill go."

"I bumped into him on the way in," Solo told her. "I wondered what had got him pissed."

Kel was scrolling through a document on the monitor screen. "I was pretty certain I had built in a clause to get rid of him when he started to annoy me too much. Here's his working terms and conditions. Let me know what you think."

Han scanned the document, nodding at the parts he agreed with and screwing up his face at those he didn't. She watched the play of thought across his face. When he finished he turned to her. She was leaning towards him expectantly.

"What do you think?" Kel asked.

"It needs a few changes," Han replied, non-committal.

"Such as?"

Han glanced at the contract again, then back at Kel. "The ship's captain has the final word over the safety of his vessel." The corner of his mouth lifted. "Just because you own this glamour bus don't mean you know how she ought to be flown."

As if taken aback by his comment, Kel blinked and moved away from him. Her eyes searched his face and she chewed her bottom lip. She nodded once and turned back to the terminal interface board, tapping out an amendment to the contract.

"How's that?" she asked after a few minutes.

Han nodded his agreement, then pointed further down the document. "Scratch out that 'on call' garbage and 'no alcohol' bit."

Kel willingly complied and asked, without a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Anything else?"

"Yeah," he said. "Delete that clause about firing me if I start to annoy you."

She chuckled and gladly removed the offending paragraph.

"And so to the nuts and bolts of the matter," Kel said finally. "Remuneration."

Han shifted in his seat. "How much are you willing to pay?"

Still facing the terminal, she said, "Talent attracts reward." She openly faced him. "How much do you want?"

"I won't leave for less than what I make as a general."

"Which is?"

He glanced at the screen again. "About half again as much as what Kavanill's on."

She mulled things over and did some quick calculations. "Well, I could offer you a standard retainer of what Kav's on, and add 500 per day per trip as allowances. On average, I'd say I travel about 100 days per Standard year, so that could be up to 50,000 credits on top of the retainer. You could then do whatever else you please in your spare time."

Solo sat back in his seat and considered the offer, warming to the thought that for nearly sixty percent of the time, he could do his own thing—be his own master again and do whatever he pleased. With the hint of a smile, Kel watched him churn things over.

"Or else," she suddenly offered, "I could pay you double what you're on now, plus give you a ten percent share in the business, and you work _with_ me, not for me, full-time."

The frown on his face became an incredulous grin as he whirled through the computations. He stifled a small laugh.

"You really know how to tempt a guy," Han told her. "Where were you before I signed on with the Rebellion?"

"I know quality when I see it," she explained. "Besides, I've got a good feeling about you, Han. This could be quite a lucrative arrangement for both of us."

Han scratched the scar on his chin and shook his head in a slightly bewildered gesture.

"Lemme think about it," he said. "I'll get back to you."

Kel stared at him with a look he could not quite read, and he thought she might taunt him with the suggestion he needed to discuss this with Leia. Instead, she nodded agreeably.

"Sure. Take your time."

He rose and stood behind his chair, fingers gripping the padded cushion.

"I won't need long," he explained.

"Whatever you're comfortable with."

He glanced towards the hatch, then turned back to Kel.

"What're your plans for the day?" he asked.

"I'm raising ship soon and heading back to Coruscant. There's quite a lot of work I've left behind. And as I figured I didn't have much of a vacation left, I may as well head back." She smiled at enigmatically. "Why?"

Han shrugged. "I thought you might like to take the swoop out for a final spin. But if you've gotta get back to work—"

"There's a time for work and there's a time for play," Kel interrupted. "The trick is knowing the correct balance. I work to live, not live to work." Her nose wrinkled in amusement. "Now it's your turn to tempt me with your offer."

Han's brows raised in contemplation. "A ride. A swim. A bite to eat. Maybe by then I'll have made up my mind."

Her smile steadied and she asked him, "Are you sure about this, Han?"

He did not hesitate. "Yeah. I'm sure."

It was without discussion that Kel headed the swoop out of Emubra and along the stretch of beach she had met him on the previous day. He held on to her gently, fingers moulding to her hips, enjoying the way the wind ruffled her short hair.

They returned to the pinnacles and took a circuitous route around its perimeter, content to share the vista in almost silent reverence.

When the heat and the dust became too much, they returned to the protected waters of the bay. With no sense of modesty, Han stripped down to his boxer briefs and plunged into the blue coolness. Kel removed her shirt and shorts to reveal a more modest swimming outfit than he had expected her to wear.

 _Still,_ Han decided, _she would look good in the remains of a vacuum suit._

Solo brushed the stinging salt from his eyes as the current gently tugged at him, carrying him further out as she remained on the shore. The day—and the situation—had taken on a dream-like quality, and he had compliantly allowed himself to be swept along. He was surprised that he could dispassionately watch what was unfolding, yet somehow he seemed unable, or unwilling, to stop it.

He was enjoying Kel's company with a familiarity he was not entitled to. Studying her body with an intensity he should not have. And almost compelled to feel the things he knew he should not be feeling. But he could not—did not—want to shake these things from his senses. He did not want to push this woman away.

Han encouraged Kel to join him in the water, and before long she was matching him stroke for stroke. They spent the rest of the day swimming and riding the swoop along the stretch of beach, talking when they had something to say, content to share silence when they didn't.

As the sun lowered in the sky, they headed back to Emubra in search of something more substantial than the ration biscuits he had collected from the _Falcon_ on the way through. On one of the back streets near the markets, they found an unassuming tapcaf patroned only by locals. The tables were small and rickety, the menu board hand-written, and a thin layer of grime coated the floor, obviously a side to Jenolan culture most tourists did not wish to experience.

Han convinced Kel this meant the food was probably the best of its kind in Emubra. He followed the lead of most of the locals and purchased their food in cheap take-away containers. They arrived back at their beach in time to watch the sun sink into the ocean, munching on battered pieces of vegetable and seafood coated in a variety of sour and sweet sauces.

The colours of the twilight sky were fading by the time they finished their meal. Han scrunched his fingers through the fine beach sand to wipe away the oil and sauce, then sauntered down to the water to wash the sand away. Crouching at the bay's edge, he looked back towards Kel as his fingers dangled in the water. She was sitting in a relaxed pose, legs bent and arms spread out behind her as she leaned back and looked up into the sky, waiting for the blues and reds to disperse to black and allow the stars to shine through. The waves lapped gently at his bare feet.

The first stars where just starting to twinkle into sight when Han suddenly appeared above Kel's view, blocking out their light. Looking up at him, his features were darkened by shadows. She thumped playfully at his leg.

"Hey!" Kel protested. "You're blocking my view."

"I'm getting back to you," Han explained.

"Wha—?"

She stared uncomprehendingly at his outstretched hand, but instinctively took it. He drew her to her feet and continued to hold her hand, the warmth and strength of his grip causing her heart rate to increase.

"I think I'll take that job," Han told her, staring at her intensely. "If that's all right with you, Boss."

The air between them was charged with expectation. Kel moistened her lips nervously.

"Fine," she said, turning the handhold into a handshake. "And the 'Boss' thing is a nice touch."

"I always aim to please," he told her with a cheeky wink.

Holding her hand, he led her to the swoop. He pulled on his boots, then climbed on, gesturing for her to join him.

"And as an act of good faith, I'll fly you back to the _Warrior_ , free of charge."

Kel settled in behind him, hands poised on his shoulders. As he tilted his head to see if she was ready, Kel gently cupped his jaw in her palm and turned his mouth towards hers. Her lips brushed across his, lingering for the barest of moments, then she pulled back.

"Thank you," she said.

His eyes searched hers, the touch of her lips still tingling his mouth. "For what?"

"For a wonderful holiday."

Han smiled. "You're welcome."

He flicked the engines on and eased the swoop into a casual cruise down the beach, guided by the moonlight cast across the sand. She held onto him lightly, arms wrapped around his sides, cheek against his back. He felt her smile through the fabric of his shirt, and he momentarily released one hand from the control bars and squeezed her fingers around his waist. Heady with anticipation, he wondered if she would say something, plead, offer or suggest what should happen next. Instead she brushed her fingers up the back of his neck and through his hair. Suppressing a shiver, he leaned into her gentle caress and tried to concentrate on flying.

Solo dragged out the flight back to the _Fiscal Warrior_ for a long as he could, coaxing the swoop along at a pace close to stalling speed. Despite this, they eventually arrived at their destination.

He secured the swoop in the hold while she watched from the hatchway, making some pretence of adjusting a linkage cuff before finally meeting her at the entrance. Kel looked at him with a mixture of hesitancy and expectancy, her dark eyes wide and offering. He swallowed the tightness from his throat, painfully aware of the ache in his chest and his groin. They were standing too close again.

"With all this sand," he said casually, "you might need to get her serviced once you get back to Coruscant."

Kel nodded and smiled. "Would you like to go through the contract?"

He matched her smile. "Yeah."

In the privacy of her cabin, she made the final amendments to the contact and read them out to him while he poured them both a glass of wine. Her fingers brushed his as he handed her the glass.

"I'll let you read it for yourself," she said, moving away from the terminal.

As if in a daze, Han scanned the document, hardly believing where this was heading. The contract seemed vacuum-tight and heavily weighted to his advantage; all it need was his retina pattern and corroboratory signature.

Kel twirled the stem of her wine glass. "Is the contract all right?"

"Fine," he mumbled. His nervous grin gathered strength. "It's better than fine. It's nearly the best thing that's ever happened to me." He deliberately ignored the voice that tried to remind exactly what the best thing was that had ever happened to him.

With a deliberate finality, Solo allowed the terminal to take his retina scan and wrote his signature across its tablet interface. He rose from the desk, turned to face Kel, and favoured her with a lopsided grin. The smile she returned was just as relieved and grateful.

"To business," she said, holding her glass towards him.

Han crossed the room towards her. "To business."

Glasses and eyes met. Then Han kissed her, a delicate, exploratory kiss. Her lips moved against his as they stared into each other's unblinking eyes, gauging what would happen next. Hesitantly, he pulled away from her, watching, breathing. Kel stared back at him, eyes sparkling, inhaling heavily through parted lips. He took her glass, placed it next to his on the table and turned back to her. Bare centimetres separated them. He bent his head to kiss her again and felt her hands in his hair, pulling him towards her. He complied and pressed his body against hers as their mouths locked, tongues probing and demanding. His mouth moved down her chin to the line of her neck. Her skin tasted of salt and of the sea. She moaned his name and held him tighter.

Through unspoken consensus they stumbled to the bed. He hovered above her and they kissed again, breathless and lustful, hands caressing, fumbling with clothing and fastenings. He nibbled at her ear... down her neck… and found himself thinking of Leia. Leia's skin felt… different.

Han hesitated and Kel's lips captured his again. Leia's mouth tasted different. Her kisses were sweeter… as passionate, but her lips moved against his in a distinctly different way.

Han sat up to assist Kel's attempts to remove his shirt. His fingers undid the fastenings, and he looked down at the woman laying between his legs as he knelt above her. This beautiful woman was waiting for him—waiting for him to make love to her—her eyes shining with desire and promise. And all he could think of was Leia. He stopped unfastening his shirt.

"I can't do this," Han whispered.

Kel's hands moved up his thighs. "It'll be all right."

His hands dropped onto hers. "I'm in love with Leia. I'm committed to her. In every way."

Kel tried a reassuring smile, as much for herself as for him. She laced her fingers through his. "She'll never know."

"But I will."

Her mouth opened in unspoken protest as he pushed himself off the bed. His face was flushed as he hurriedly jammed his shirt back inside his trousers.

"I'm sorry, Kel," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't've…" He half-shrugged in an apologetic gesture. "…led you on like this." His eyes averted. "I gotta go."

She sat up as he headed for the hatchway.

"Han."

He stopped at the hatch, glanced at his boots, then turned and looked at her. Her face had paled, her eyes shimmered, and yet she still managed a small smile.

"Don't worry about the contract," she said, her voice calm and steady. "I won't hold you to it."

His head dipped in acknowledgment, then he turned and left her cabin.


	15. Chapter 15

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XV**

It was late by the time Solo reached the hotel. He had spent most of the night wandering the length of the pier, unsuccessfully trying to fathom what had led him to the point of throwing away everything he and Leia had worked so hard to build. But he had found no answers in the depths of the bay.

The room was dark and quiet when he entered. The open door cast a wedge of light from the hallway, illuminating the figure lying under the bed covers.

 _Leia..._

His pulse tripped, at once pleased and afraid.

Darkness returned as Han palmed the door shut. He waited for his eyes to adjust before moving further into the room. Leia remained on the far side of the bed, rigidly still, her back towards him. She was awake; he knew that. She was a light sleeper, plus her Force-sense meant he was never able to sneak into bed without disturbing her.

For a moment Han considered softly calling her name, letting her know she couldn't fool him.

 _So she wants to keep playing this game. Ignoring me. Punishing me._ He absently plucked at his belt buckle as his thoughts turned 180 degrees. _I deserve it. What the fuck was I thinking?_

 _What the_ _ **fuck**_ _was I doing?_

Han quietly removed his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. Being careful not to touch or jolt Leia, he climbed into bed on his side and lowered his head onto the pillow.

The sheets were cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Leia. He edged closer, his body shadowing the length of hers. His mouth opened, his throat suddenly tight and dry. Leia seemed small and fragile, and yet she had a frighteningly powerful hold over him. Despite his own needs, Han couldn't bring himself to touch her, to breach this gulf between them.

Stifling a sigh, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. His mind felt crowded and stuffy, reeling with the events of the last few days. A thumping ached deep in his chest. He closed his eyes in the vain hope it would all disappear, but the darkness only offered amplification.

Han blinked his eyes open again and for long moment he lay listening to Leia's breathing, the accusations and recriminations in her sharp intakes of breath fuelling the guilt welling in his stomach.

His tight muscles turned him onto his side, facing away from her, as far away as he could manage. Balanced on the edge of the bed, Han gazed numbly into the corners of the room and tried to calm his racing thoughts.

He lay that way for an interminable period of time, wondering if he should have come back to their room. In all honesty, he knew he had nowhere else to go.

Then he heard a choked gasp of breath. The bed shifted in response to a movement from Leia. He tensed already coiled muscles and listened intently. A sniff, another strangled intake of breath and the sensation of her shaking.

A knife twisted deep into his gut and his own breathing became pained and difficult. He rolled back towards her.

"Leia?"

Her shoulders twitched and he slid closer to her. The pale moonlight lit her face in profile. Her eyes were closed, pressed tightly shut as were her lips, and tears traced down her face.

"Leia." The words were hard to get out. "Sweetheart."

His hand touched her shoulder and her tears flowed freely from beneath her closed eyes. A sigh cracked through Han's chest and he cradled her body against his, his face pressed against the side of her head.

"Don't cry," he softly pleaded. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Leia trembled in his arms. He closed his eyes, held her with a strength he did not know he had, whispering apologies through her hair. His words gave way to gentle kisses across her cheek, her ear, the nape of her neck, her shoulder. The tears and trembling abruptly subsided and she arched against him. He instinctively responded with open-mouthed kisses to the erogenous points on her neck. She squirmed further into him, reached behind and ran her hand down his hip, squeezed his buttocks. He nibbled at her earlobe as her hand moved over his thigh and grabbed at his hardening erection. He jumped slightly at the force with which she held him, the sharpness of her nails, and continued exploring the folds of her ear with his tongue. She suddenly turned in his arms, and he saw her cheeks were flushed, the trail of tears still evident. She kept her eyes averted, her gaze tracking over him possessively. He allowed her to push his shoulders down and compliantly watched as she straddled his hips and sank her body onto his.

Leia's eyes briefly closed in self-absorbed pleasure, then flashed open as she roughly batted his hands away from her breasts, gripped his wrists and pinned his hands up next to his shoulders. Straight-armed and leaning over him, she held him down, her body grinding against his, her hair flailing across their faces.

Han's arousal momentarily waned before he surrendered himself to her desires. He lay beneath her contritely, passively, yet still maintaining his erection for her while she panted and groaned across the top of him.

Han sensed she was reaching her climax; he was her lover and could tell from the change in pitch of her sighs. Their eyes met for the first time and Leia suddenly stopped her thrusting hip movements. She released his wrists and brushed her hand against his cheek. Han flinched, expecting the sting of a slap which never came. Leia's gaze shifted inwards, then she pushed herself off him and hurried towards the refresher ensuite, closing the door behind her.

Han's eyes closed in mute impotence. He dropped an arm across his face and swore to himself softly. A cold silence returned to the room, pounding in his ears with all the force of his own pulsing blood. Then he heard the muffled patter of water coming through the adjoining wall.

XX

XX

Leia sat huddled on the floor of the refresher recess, legs tucked underneath her, her head stretched up and back towards the shower head. Her tears became lost in the warm rain, her keening wail subsumed by the drumming against the tiled walls. She had no idea why she was crying, what had come over her, why she had possessively used Han for her own sexual fulfilment.

When this had all blown up, she had tried to simply ignore his anger in the hope that he would eventually come around to her way of thinking that there had been nothing sinister in her need to bring work with her on their vacation. She had used that work to push aside the terrible thought that this could lead to anything more substantial than just another one of their disagreements.

By the second night, it had become obvious to Leia that Han was deliberately imposing a barrier between them. He didn't want to face her and bring this mess to some kind of resolution. Instead, he wanted to run and hide, like he had before when he was a mercenary, when his only allegiance was to himself and his ship. And that was where he had spent the night, in his beloved ship. So she had left him there. On his own.

By the morning of the third day, Leia had decided she could not—did not—want to see him. She had instead insisted on accompanying Luke on a long trek out to the pinnacles he had visited the previous day, despite Luke's gentle suggestion that she wait for Han to return.

She had not enjoyed the walk as much as she had pretended. Her thoughts had been consumed with the idea that she was punishing Han, and that when she returned to their room, he would be waiting for her, suitably penitent and chastised without Leia having to say a word.

But he hadn't been waiting for her. He hadn't come returned until very late.

That had given Leia additional time to prepare herself, to come up with arguments and logic and allow her to confront him with self-righteous indignation.

Except she hadn't done that.

Alone in their bed, Leia had conjured up all manner of images about where Han was, what he was doing, thinking, feeling.

In spite of her worst fears, Leia's level-headedness had allowed her to phrase the first words she wanted to say to him: _'I think we need to talk, Han.'_

She hadn't been able to say even say that much. Her initial reaction to his entrance had been to hide from him, pretend to be asleep and wait for _him_ to make the first apologetic gesture.

But Han hadn't done that either.

Leia had been overwhelmed and frightened by her unexpected hunger for Han. It was more than desire that had fuelled her lust for him. She had wanted to bring him back under her control, to reclaim him like a piece of property, mark him as her territory.

She should have known better. It didn't matter that she had no prior experience when it came to affairs of the heart, nothing to frame her actions and judge her emotions against. She should have acted differently, more sensibly. She was better than this.

A red-hot humiliation burned deep within Leia. She felt shamed by her actions in this whole sordid mess, right from the point she had arranged to receive daily reports from the Embassy until it had congealed into a travesty of her relationship with Han.

How could a disagreement about a stupid wager have deteriorated into nearly the worst day of her life?


	16. Chapter 16

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XVI**

The rays of dawn were staining the sky when Leia stepped back out into the room, a robe wrapped tightly around her. Han was out on the balcony, staring out across the bay. Bare foot and dressed only in his trousers, his broad back faced towards her, the muscles stretched taut across his shoulder blades as he leaned against the balustrade. Bathed in the golden hues of sunrise, Leia recalled a memory she had of him in a similar thoughtful pose on Bespin, fresh from a night of love-making. That moment now seemed a lifetime away.

Han's head tilted slightly as he heard her and he swivelled around. Leia sat down on the edge of the bed nearest to the balcony door. He stared at her through the open doorway, his face drawn and pale from lack of sleep. Leia swallowed and held her head high.

"I think we need to talk, Han."

He nodded solemnly. "I think you're right."

Han moved back into the room. Leia expected him to a seat on the sofa, away from her, but he instead sat next to her on the bed and casually drew his leg up so that he could better face her. They regarded each other silently. Despite herself, Leia wistfully considered what a handsome man he was, in a rugged and masculine kind of way. It was no wonder she had been attracted to him from the beginning.

Leia braced herself for the conversation they should have had three days ago. The conversation she had spent the last few hours running through her mind in the refresher. With her diplomatic training and negotiation skills, Leia had run through different scenarios, anticipated the numerous arguments. All of them led to the same result.

"Do you know what's going on here?" Leia quietly asked him.

Han grimaced, scratched the scar on his chin, a gesture she had come to know in him as 'contemplation'.

"You've taught me a lot of things, Leia," Han finally said. "One of those is to be truthful about our relationship."

A cold, hard fist grabbed at Leia's heart but she continued looking at him.

"I need to tell you a few things," Han explained. "What's been going on. How I feel about 'em. How _you_ feel about 'em. Then we need to work out what we're gonna do."

Leia's hairline prickled as the chill in her chest spread like icy fingers throughout her body. Somehow she found the strength to softly tell him, "Whatever it is, it sounds like you've already made your decision."

Han averted his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. When he didn't dispute her claim, Leia matched his inhalation.

"Kel del Rado followed us—me—to Jenolan." His voice seemed unnaturally loud in the room.

 _Kel…_ The familiar way he shortened del Rado's first name chipped away at Leia's stoicism.

Han's eyes found their way back to Leia's face. "I've spent the last few days with her."

The bile rose in her throat. She clasped her hands together to stop her fingers from trembling and blandly asked, "Have you slept with her?"

His gaze flickered off to one side and the room seemed to spin around her as she vainly tried to still her hands from shaking.

"No," Han said quietly.

 _But you've come close,_ she thought distantly and pressed, "Did you want to sleep with her?"

"I'm committed to _you_ , Leia," Han blurted out a little too quickly. "I couldn't sleep with another woman. No matter what I felt."

She didn't want to hear the answer, but she asked him, "What do you feel, Han?"

He ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "I don't know any more."

She waited for his eyes to return to her. "You do know," she softly accused.

His pupils shifted to a green-grey colour. "Yeah," he admitted, "I do."

His gaze dropped from hers again and she watched him pick at a loose thread on his trousers.

"I'm wonderin'..." he began, then ran out of ion particles. He looked up at her and tried again. "I'm wonderin' if we really are right for each other. If we can make this work." "I don't know if we can."

She swallowed hard and the ice in her chest cracked. "Oh."

"I'm not the man you need at your side," he hurriedly explained. "I can't stand all this political shit and I ain't cut out for the military. Hell, even the Empire realised that back when I was a snotty-nosed lieutenant."

This wasn't one of the scenarios Leia had anticipated. Was more about him doubting himself as her partner then about them as a couple? He was a good general, despite his beliefs about himself. She had told him before he was a natural leader and that still held true. Admittedly he had a few problems with protocol and discipline, but history was full of eccentric military leaders.

"So," Leia shakily reasoned, "you're just going to give up on our relationship and abandon a promising career because you think you're not meant to be in the military?"

"My career isn't _that_ promising," Han told her.

"At least it _is_ a career." She noticed that he hadn't mentioned their relationship.

Han's eyes flared briefly. "But it's not what I want."

A weary sigh signalled her frustration. "What do you want, Han? What you had before?" _Being a criminal? A drug runner? Profiting from the misery of others?_

"Not what I had before," he said softly. "I can't go back, not even if I wanted to. Meeting you was the best damn thing that ever happened to me."

 _Was...?_ She tried sound like she was giving him logic and reasoning, not pleas and entreaties. "You've only been thinking about this for the last few days."

"No, I've been thinkin' about it for a while. I just haven't said anything. I probably didn't even want to admit it to myself." Leia swallowed a hard lump from her throat and he continued, "Kel offered me a job as her pilot and…I don't know. It just brought everything to a head. It made me question exactly what it was I was doin'."

"This is all about you wanting to _fuck_ del Rado," Leia accused, her face suddenly flushed with anger.

"No!" Han's response was abrupt. "No! It's got nothing to do with her." He pushed himself off the bed, pointed a finger at Leia—"This is about you,"—his finger curled back to himself—"and me."

Han stalked over to the balcony door and stared out at the bay. Leia remained on the bed, rubbed at her temples, and tried to get back some self-control, tried to stop the threads of her life unravelling before her eyes.

When he didn't say anything more, she ventured again, as if she was undertaking trade negotiations, "So what are you saying? About you and me?"

Her self-possessed demeanour eventually shamed Han into facing her again.

"I wanna make some changes," he said. "I _am_ going to resign. They won't miss one less general. And whether I take up Kel's job offer or do something else, I'll sort that out when I get there."

Leia pursed her lips.

"I'm a selfish man, Leia. You know that. We've talked about this before, more times than I wanna think about."

A cold wind blew through her. She watched numbly as his hands clenched into useless fists by his sides.

"I've tried hard to do this. Kest knows how hard I've tried. But I can't. I can't share you. And I don't want to wake up one morning and realise that I resent waiting in line for your attention. That I resent you. I love you too much to ever want that to happen."

Her tears wouldn't flow. Leia had done all her crying.

She stared at him, distant, removed. This was exactly where she had expected their conversation to run to. Force-insight, or a self-fulfilling prophecy.

"You're giving me an ultimatum," Leia pointed out. "You're telling me to choose between you, or the New Republic"

"You've already chosen." His voice was almost as composed as her. "We want different things, Leia. It's as simple as that."


	17. Chapter 17

**THE WAGER**

 **by CorellianBlue**

 **XVII**

Pre-flight checks complete and comms established with traffic control, Han rested back into the pilot's chair, fingers drumming on the console in front of him. The _Falcon_ was prepped, ready to go and departure timeslot confirmed, so apart from the allocated flight window he had no idea what he was waiting for.

Han glanced out the cockpit towards the docking bay access door. Well...maybe he did know. If he thought about it, stopped lying to himself, he was waiting for Leia to come running into the bay and up the boarding ramp. Waiting for her to throw herself into his arms; promise to accompany him to the farthest reaches of the galaxy; leave the New Republic behind. Choose him as he had chosen her. But he knew she wasn't coming.

He had spent the flight back to Coruscant cooped up on his own in the cockpit, sleeping upright in the pilot's chair, and only venturing out to use the 'fresher when he absolutely had to. It may have been cowardly but he hadn't able to bear the thought of facing her. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he had, and he didn't want to change his mind about what he had decided.

Han had planned staying on Coruscant only for as long as it took to formally resign, ditch his uniforms, settle his accounts and collect a few personal items from Leia's apartment. He shivered away the thought of that memory. Leia, of course, had not been there. After checking his blaster in at the reception desk, one of the security guards had escorted him up to her room and supervised him while he collected his things. It hadn't been until he saw the security code to her rooms had been changed that the reality of his actions hit him.

Han sat upright and his heart rate increased as the access door to the docking bay suddenly opened, then settled in a rush of foolish adrenalin as the unassuming man dressed in simple clothing seemed to glide through the portal. Luke had come to see say good-bye. Luke. Not Leia.

Uncomfortable with the idea of a mushy farewell in his ship, Han swung out of his seat, headed out of the cockpit and down the ramp. Han realised Luke must have anticipated his actions, for the young Jedi Knight had stopped a good five metres away from the _Falcon_ , casting a critical eye over the freighter. Han waited at the bottom of the ramp, watching him wordlessly. His inspection complete, Luke beamed at Han.

"What a piece of junk," Luke lightly joked.

Han's smile was rueful. "She's still got it where it counts, kid."

Luke's blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "Like you, right?"

Han made an indifferent gesture in reply. Luke glanced back at the access door, then moved towards him.

"Nearly ready to leave?" Luke asked casually.

"Just about."

The young man stopped in front of him, his grin shaky. "I figured I had better come along to make sure you leave this time."

Han made an appreciative grunt at Luke's levity, hoping this scene wouldn't become any more emotional than it had to. He glanced back up the boarding ramp into the ship, indicating he didn't have time for small talk or long good-byes.

Luke's gaze flicked towards the access door again, then back at Han. "I'm sorry you and Leia didn't work out."

Han's eyes returned to Luke. "Don't worry about it. I figure, you must have been right all along."

Luke tilted his head quizzically.

"About a princess and a guy like me," Han explained. "We were lucky to make it as far as we did."

"She still loves you, you know that, Han." Luke stated it as a simple fact. "And you still love her."

"So what if I do," Han said brusquely, his eyes sparking. "It don't make no difference. We're no good together."

Luke countered the sudden frustration with understanding and compassion. "I'm sorry you think that way."

Embarrassed at his sudden defensiveness, Han stared down at his boots, breather heavily through his nose and muttered, "We both think that way."

There was an uneasy silence between the two friends, which Luke covered with another casual question.

"So where are you headed?"

Han's relief at the change of subject was noticeable.

"Kashyyyk." He spoke the name with the relish of a child about to go home. "Thought I'd spend a few weeks with Chewie's clan. It'll give him some more time with his family before he gets it into his thick Wookiee skull that he wants to follow me around again."

"Pass on my regards to Chewie."

"I'll do that."

There was another uneasy moment between them. Han felt obliged to fill it, inquire about Luke's plans as if the question was a formal requirement of this conversation.

"And what are you gonna do?"

Luke's smile suggested he sensed Han's discomfort.

"I better let you go, hey?" Luke said. "Don't want to miss that flight window."

Han scrunched his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "Yeah. You're right. Traffic gets a bit thick this time of day." He held his hand out to Luke. "I guess I'll be seeing you."

The younger man accepted the grip, his eyes and smile speaking more than a greater physical gesture. "You're a good man, Han Solo."

The smile he received in reply was wry and good-humoured. "You haven't learned a thing after all these years."

Handshake complete, Han nodded and half-turned towards the ramp.

"Take care, Han," Luke called. "May the Force be with you."

Han touched his fingers to his forehead in mock-salute. "Thanks, kid. Look after yourself."

"You too."

He turned and strode up the ramp into his ship. The flight window came up just as he strapped himself into the pilot's seat. He adjusted the headset and waited until Luke had left the docking bay, before coaxing the _Millennium Falcon_ out into the stream of intra-planetary traffic. He guided the freighter up into Coruscant's upper atmosphere, then out into space. Co-ords set and locked into the nav-computer, he took a final look at the glare of Coruscant, the one planet he might nearly have called home. The one he might have called home with Leia. But that was in another future, not the one which stood before him now.

"Good-bye, Leia." He was startled to hear himself speak out loud.

Shaking his head, he set his jaw and increased the _Falcon's_ sublight speed. Gripping the hyperdrive levers, his gaze skipped over controls and read-outs. When the ship hit necessary acceleration, he threw the levers and jumped.

XXXX

XXXX

 _Late. It must be late,_ Leia thought.

The Embassy's corridors and walkways were dimly lit when Leia eventually returned to her apartment. Embassy staff had long since retired for the night, with only the occasional sanit droid and security guard left on duty.

It had been a long, hard day, Leia conceded, but a very productive one. She finally felt as though she had caught up on all the work she had left behind when she had gone off on vacation. A vacation, she added to herself, she'd had no right in taking. Yet today she had gotten on top of the correspondence, read most of the outstanding reports, and even conducted five very successful meetings.

Leia wondered how late it was, but then decided it didn't matter. 'Lateness' was relative. 'Lateness' belonged to another life. 'Lateness' only applied when there was someone you were late for.

There was a tightness in her chest, a weariness throughout her body, and she considered that she might be coming down with something. She had not stopped all day, except when Luke had dropped by. He had called in on the pretence to talk business with her, but instead had told her he was going down to the docking bays later that day to say good-bye to Han. She had eyed him coldly.

"Just thought you might like to know," Luke had said.

Her brother may as well have added, 'Just giving you the opportunity to dramatically appear, throw yourself at him and beg him to stay.'

There had been no chance of that happening; whatever had once been between Leia and Han was gone. Still, she had ensured she was heavily ensconced in a meeting at Han's appointed lift-off time.

Leia punched the access code into her apartment's security panel. When the door remained lock, she realised she had used the old code.

The apartment was dark and empty when she finally entered. She squinted against the glare as the lights automatically flicked on. The illumination seemed unusually harsh and, despite the soft furnishings, the living room appeared cold and sterile.

Smothering traces of any debilitating emotions, Leia decided on a refresher and a good night's sleep. She headed for the bedroom, stopping at the closet to collect a robe. She turned her back on the small vacant space where Han's clothes once hung, and noticed something left on the bedside table—her side of the bed.

The pulse ached in her neck as Leia approached the bed. A bracelet sat on a piece of flimsy, the delicate silver links obscuring words written in Han's blocked hand-writing. As she picked up the bracelet, she hardly noticed she had sat down on the bed. The chain links were obviously hand-crafted. She recalled seeing one similar to this before, at the markets on Jenolan.

Leia draped the bracelet over her wrist but left the clasp unsecured. The fine silver links complimented the polished skin and turn of her wrist. It was simple, beautiful.

Her eyes returned to the note and for a moment she considered disposing of it without reading it. But maybe this was what she needed, some closure to the relationship.

Leia willed her hand not to shake and picked up the note.

 _LEIA_

 _PERHAPS I'VE GOT NO RIGHT GIVING THIS TO YOU NOW._

 _I BOUGHT IT ON JENOLAN, BEFORE I SCREWED THINGS UP_

 _FOR US._

 _I DIDN'T GIVE YOU MUCH WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER, SO_

 _I HOPE YOU'LL ACCEPT THIS AS ONE OF THE THINGS I MEANT_

 _TO GIVE WHEN THINGS WERE STILL GOOD._

 _I DON'T WANT TO GO THROUGH WHAT'S BEEN SAID BEFORE._

 _WE KNOW WHERE THE OTHER STANDS._

 _I'M SORRY WE COULDN'T MAKE THIS WORK._

 _HAN_

With a heaving sigh, Leia returned the flimsy to the table top and closed her eyes. Without conscious thought or effort, she opened her mind to the Force, absorbing its strength, using it to loosen the constraints around her chest and dull the ache. She meditated as such until the dizzying rush subsided and the blood ceased thumping in her ears.

Leia sank back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. The cool links of the bracelet brushed across her cheek; she realised she must have subconsciously fastened the clasp.

Leia pulled a pillow across her face and stretched out her feelings to the universe, searching for the life force which used to shimmer so brightly for her. Except it wasn't there anymore. Or else, she couldn't find it.

Leia twisted the bracelet around her wrist.

 _Guess we both lost this one, Han._

He was right; they wanted different things. And she had chosen long ago.


End file.
